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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2006-03-14 | [Este texto, tienes que leerlo en romana] | Inscrito en la biblioteca por Ionescu Bogdan
My dear love is dead:
I will cry forever; Into the grave she carries My soul and my love. To heaven, without waiting for me She's returned; The angel that carried her Did not want to take me. How bitter is my fate! Ah! loveless, to set out on the sea! The white creature Is lying in her coffin. How all of Nature Seems to me in mourning: The forsaken dove Cries and dreams of the absent one; My soul cries and feels Itself torn asunder. How bitter is my fate! Ah! loveless, to set out on the sea! Over me the immense night Stretches like a shroud. I sing my romance That heaven alone hears. Oh, how she was beautiful, And how I loved her! I shall never love Another woman so much as she. How bitter is my fate! Ah! loveless, to set out on the sea.
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