Ships stay for a while, and go back on their lanes,
But return once again, even through the worst weather...
Half a year wonít pass, before I will come again,
Again to leave for half a year after a brief time together.
Everyone would come back, except for the best friends,
Except for the women most loyal and blessed,
Except for the most needed, all return in the end...
I donít believe in fate and I believe in myself even less.
But Iíd like to believe that this isnít all true,
That the fashion for ship-burning will soon end here.
With friends and with works, I will come back to you,
And of course I will sing, in less than half a year.