You know that I have named many a wind
after our dreams,
that I have named many a shadow
after our wishes,
that I have named many of our tears
after our memories.
Since you have left,
nameless winds come and go,
just like shadows and tears.
Everything is the same;
the same loneliness,
the same echo of nameless winds,
the same voyage of nameless shadows,
the same voyage of nameless tears.
The winds of a nameless world
are haunting my tears now
along the waves of a rough sea of memories.
A midst such a terrible nameless world
I am waiting for your soft yearning voice,
so we can name
our winds, dreams and tears again.
In the shadow of burnt out candles,
everything is the same,
the same silence of the old walnut tree,
the same accusation of loneliness,
everything is the same
apart from my old age.
Even though I grew old,
the hope inside me is getting younger,
that I shall see you again
in one of those golden mornings,
when the sun glides all our winds,
all our dreams,
and all our tears.
You know all my winds by their names,
all my shadows,
all my tears.
You know all about me
and all inside me,
and this should be reason enough, my dear,
to see you again.
after our dreams,
that I have named many a shadow
after our wishes,
that I have named many of our tears
after our memories.
Since you have left,
nameless winds come and go,
just like shadows and tears.
Everything is the same;
the same loneliness,
the same echo of nameless winds,
the same voyage of nameless shadows,
the same voyage of nameless tears.
The winds of a nameless world
are haunting my tears now
along the waves of a rough sea of memories.
A midst such a terrible nameless world
I am waiting for your soft yearning voice,
so we can name
our winds, dreams and tears again.
In the shadow of burnt out candles,
everything is the same,
the same silence of the old walnut tree,
the same accusation of loneliness,
everything is the same
apart from my old age.
Even though I grew old,
the hope inside me is getting younger,
that I shall see you again
in one of those golden mornings,
when the sun glides all our winds,
all our dreams,
and all our tears.
You know all my winds by their names,
all my shadows,
all my tears.
You know all about me
and all inside me,
and this should be reason enough, my dear,
to see you again.
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