My love!
On that long night
ripened the bitter fruit
of this great solitude.
My love!
In the clouds of which sky
shall the sadness of your flight
wander without solace?
I know it very well...
That unusual cold
blinded me
in an instant!
It happened in a gust of madness,
without tenderness,
without pity.
It happened in a hoarse cry
of love unhinged
by pain.
You were the sunlight,
and a happy song,
and the grey drizzle
down my window.
You were a true haven
and a dreamy elf,
and a blooming jasmine,
and you were the morning.
Soft murmur...
Hill breeze...
Warm coos
of a dove...
You won't be anymore
the rosebush's scent,
the freshness of a spring
in my life.
You will only be the voice
that will remind me
that in a heinous instant
I made you cry.
You're not around anymore!
And the memory is a mirror
that reflects from afar
your sadness and my badness.
You're not around anymore!
And your absence that grows longer
has a taste of bitter fruit,
of punishment, of solitude.
My love!
A cloud laid a veil
over the sky above us two.
And a cloud, simply,
suddenly left me behind!
A senseless,
merciless, pitiless,
unforgiving cloud.
You were the sunlight,
and a happy song,
and the grey drizzle
down my window.
You were a true haven
and a dreamy elf,
and a blooming jasmine,
and you were the morning.
Soft murmur...
Hill breeze...
Warm coos
of a dove...
You won't be anymore
the rosebush's scent,
the freshness of a spring
in my life.
You will only be the voice
that will remind me
that in a heinous instant
I made you cry.