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One good day we will see
arising a strand of smoke
over the far horizon of the sea.
And then the ship appears.
And then the white ship
enters into the port,
it rumbles its salute.
Do you see it? He is coming!
I don't go down to meet him, not I!
I stay upon the edge of the hill,
and I wait, and I wait the great moment,
but do not grow weary of the long wait.
And... leaving from the cowded city,
a man, a litle speck
climbing the hill.
Who is it? Who is it?
And he arrives.
What will he say, what will he say?
He will call Butterfly from the distence.
Without answering I will stay hidden.
A little to tease him, a little as to not die
at the first meeting.
And then a little troubled he will call, he will call:
'Little one, dear wife, blossom of orange!'
The names he called me at his last coming.
(to Suzuki)
All this will happen, I promise you.
Hold back your fears!
With secure faith I wait for him.