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• Artiste: Mike Oldfield
• Titre: Hiawatha's Departure
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By the shores of Gitche Gumee,By the shining Big-Sea-Water,At the doorway of the wigwan,In the early Summer morning,Hiawatha stood and waited.All the air was full of freshness,All the earth was bright and joyous,And before him, through the sunshine,Westward toward the neighboring forestPassed in golden swarms the ahmo,Passed the bees, the honey-makers,Burning, singing in the sunshine.Bright above him shone the heavens,Level spread the lake before him;From its bosom leaped the sturgeon,Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine;On its margrin the great forestStood reflected in the water,Every tree-top had its shadow,Motionless beneath the water.From the brow of HiawathaGone was every trace of sorrow,As the fog from off the water,As the mist from off the meadow.With a smile of joy and gladness,With a look of exultation,As of one who in a visionSees what is to be, but is not,Stood and waited Hiawatha.Toward the sun his hands were lifted,Both the palms spread out toward it,And between the parted fingersFell the sunshine on his features,Flecked with light his naked shoulders,As is falls and flecks an oak-treeThrough the rifted leaves and branches.Oe?r the water floating, flying,Something in the hazy distance,Something in the mist of morning,loomed and lifted from the water,Now seemed floating, now seemed flying,Coming nearer, nearer, nearer.Was it Shingebis the diver?Or the pelican, the Shada?Or the heron, the Shu-shu-gha?Or the white goose, Waw-be-wana,With the water dripping, flashing,From its glossy neck and features?It was neither goose nor diver,Neither pelican nor heron,O?er the water floating, flying,Through the shining mist of morning,But a birch canoe with paddles,Rising, sinking on the water,Dripping, flashing in the sunshine;And within it came a people.