When my dusk is drawn in the twilight's gleam

A tear does fall in silent stream.

When I raise my eyes for to see the light

I go through the shadow's vastrous might.



And I won't see when the morning redeems the sad voice of

the tender night

A sad voice, and it seems like some whispering of good-bye.



When my destiny emerges from the other side

There is no place for me to hide.

When I close my eyes for to never dream again

Think of me every now and then:



And I won't see when the morning redeems the sad voice of

the tender night

A sad voice, and it seems like some whispering of good-bye.