And take my hand and let us go,

Beyond the land of the mulberry tree-

Silently, contently, not too fast, not too slow.

At our backs the nightingales follow,

But see in the distance- a light! a key!

And take my hand and let us go-

Leave this parched land so filled with sorrow,

Across the river, we will flee,

Silently, contently, not too fast, not too slow.

A dreary boat floats gently beneath that weeping willow,

Can you see, yonder shore awaits a pomegranate tree?

And take my hand and let us go-

Let us follow where the sticks doth flow.

They stand anticipating, as we travel a road so lengthy,

Silently, contently, not too fast, not too slow.

One moment- last glance behind- the sunrise of tomorrow,

Before we leave, one look, as it peeks from the valley…

And take my hand and let us go,

Silently, contently, not too fast, not too slow.