It is quite often that I think of my past life

It is quite often that I think of my past life,

The way it was before my love for you;

Then no one had paid any attention to me,

Each and ever day was lost to me;

I thought that I would dedicate my life to song,

As well as flee from human throng.

Today my name is raised in praise and criticism,

And that I exist, - that is known by all.