To the sea, to the sea
The white gulls are crying
The wind is blowing
And the white foam is flying

West, west away
The round sun is falling
Grey ship, grey ship
Do you hear them calling?

The voices of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me

For our days are ending
And our years are failing
I will pass the wide waters
Lonely sailing

Long are the waves
On the last shore falling
Sweet are the voices
In the lost isle calling

In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover
Where the leaves fall not, land of my people forever
To the sea, to the sea
The white gulls are crying
The wind is blowing
And the white foam is flying

West, west away
The round sun is falling
Grey ship, grey ship
Do you hear them calling?