Am fernen Horizonte

Wrapped in the distant sunset,
Like phantoms in a mist,
I see the town and its towers,
All rose and amethyst.

A damp sea-breeze is rising;
The sea grows rough and dark.
With slow and sad precision
The boatman rows my bark.

The sun looks up a moment,
Piercing the clouds above,
And shows me, all too clearly,
The place I lost my love.