It rains again, and summer’s melting
As if it never were, it seems
In empty park a flutist’s playing
And no one's listening to him
He's all alone, like in a meadow,
With flowers wet from morning dew
He played so longingly and sadly
For how long, nobody knew
In a worn-out coat, an old flutist plays
Gentle flute he’s holding in his hands
Day’s already gone, shortly life will go
Like all leaves in autumn have to fall
The heaven’s getting close and near
The flute is quiet, almost mute
“Good bye, forget,” you barely hear
“I will forgive,” whispers the flute
One must be lonelier than ever
One must drink sorrow to the end
To come to gates that shut forever
And outstretch a hopeful hand
In a worn-out coat, an old flutist plays
Gentle flute he’s holding in his hands
Day’s already gone, and so life will go
Like all leaves in autumn have to fall