From Here

Go and tell my friends that I am dead
The water’s still singing
Under the wood that’s shivering.

Go and tell my friends
That I am dead
The trees are dancing
Under the shroud of the sound.

Tell them I am lying
With my eyes wide open
And covers my face
The immortal blue veil.

I’ve gone without bread
Away, away, so far
I’ve gone without bread
To my star.