Imagine a dark period of life without love
In search for a night created for drinking,
And all your life is a glass,
And you wait for the daybreak to fall asleep.
And this is melancholy,
It accompanies you on the way,
And leaves you after one hour,
But you know that it will return.
Imagine a friend who must leave
And probably, you will never hear about him any more:
You don't know whether to cry or to laugh,
You don't say anything and you have thousand things to say.
And this is melancholy,
It accompanies you,
It gives you right
But in return who knows what it wants.
And this is melancholy, an hour that goes away,
A year which it is necessary to forget
In loneliness with your sadness in a bar.
Imagine that one day you ask in the street:
“Is this life only one?”
You speak a language which others don't understand.
Even staying in one meter away from your house.
This is melancholy
Is it a friend or not?
It is what is left for you
When the world is not enough for you.
And this is melancholy,
This is extremety,
This is the only what you feel
If you are really not well.
Now, after so many words, imagine:
Love is waiting for you behind the door.
It's what you can do,
All is already foreseen.
It's clear deep inside
That we live for this.
Imagine the world for a month or just for a moment,
It almost forgot about you,
In the evenings at home I am lonely as a dog,
I eat something just not to die
And this is melancholy of everyone
And also a bit mine,
It is the only one that waits
When the time is in hurry.
And this is melancholy,
It takes you away after itself,
It is a bit bewitched train
Which you take only when you made a mistake.