A windy clear night
he station of the train
Walking up and down
From one to the other end.
WiA
windy clear night
In
the station of the train
Walking
up and down
From
one end to the other end.
The
neck of the blouse
Lifted
up on the back.
Like
a shade someone approaches
Touches
him on the shoulder.
They
shake hands,
Begin
to talk,
But
one seems absent
With
thoughts astray.
He
seems to wait, to wonder
To
ask himself only if
She
wouldn’t change her mind
To
come next to never.
As
the train arrives
And
people begin to descend
He
turns away from the friend
With
eyes glimmering with love.
But…the
crowd melts
People
spread in many ways
And
the hope he had
Just
fades away.
For
she was not among them
Nor
descending from the train
Sad,
he turns his sight away
Losing
hope to meet her that day.
With
eyes staring at the ground
Filled
with tears, almost cry
Lost
of hope, and broken heart
Walks
away into the hollow night.
And
as he walks, through station’s dust
The
shaded friend begins to ask
“She’s
you’re sweetest angel,
Is
she not?”
He
lifts up his head,
Watches
him into the eyes
And
with whispered voice
He
says just: “Aye…”
But
words just stop
For
with the corner of the eye
He
sees her come
Along
the walkway.
With
hope renewed
I
turn towards him
And
I show him, her
Coming
our way.
Warmly
shake his hand
And
say:
“If
she only knew …”(sighs)
“If
she only knew, my friend …”
Touches him on the shoulder.
They shake hands,
Begin to talk,
But one seems absent
With thoughts astray.
He seems to wait, to wonder
To ask himself only if
She wouldn’t change her mind
To come next to never.
As the train arrives
And people begin to descend
He turns away from the friend
With eyes glimmering with love.
But…the crowd melts
People spread in many ways
And the hope he had
Just fades away.
For she was not among them
Nor descending from the train
Sad, he turns his sight away
Losing hope to meet her that day.
With eyes stareing at the ground
Filled with tears, almost cry
Lost of hope, and broken heart
Walks away into the hollow night.
And as he walks, through station’s dust
The shaded friend begins to ask
“She’s you’re sweetest angel,
Is she not?”
He lifts up his head,
Watches him into the eyes
And with whispered voice
He says just: “Aye…”
But words just stop
For with the corner of the eye
He sees her come
Along the walkway.
With hope renewed
I turn towards him
And I show him, her
Coming our way.
Warmly shake his hand
And say:
“If she only knew …”(sighs)
“If she only knew, my friend …”
