Ah, I dream of my native valley. I used to walk there singing, Will I ever sing again under those great trees?
Ah, poor Hylas? Let me sail home, gently rocking on the oceans mighty breasts Oh, the powerful sea, the child of Dindyma! I dream of my native trees. They shield me from the heat of the day.
Will I ever inhale their sweet perfume again? Let me sail home, gently rocking on the oceans mighty breasts Oh, the powerful sea, the child of Dindyma!
Berlioz, Les Troyens