The eve of a departure is always so sad, dear soul

The eve of a departure is always so sad, dear soul,

and yet so full of sweetness.

Weeping all night for a broken dream,

and the past that sings in distant rumors...

and in the trees, outside, the wind moans,

and something dies in the depths of the heart.

The eve of a departure, I miss falling asleep,

rocked by a sister's hand.

Soon you will be the absent one, tears

fill our eyes. The wind moans in the trees.

Do you know how awful it is? Not to see each other again,

to be alone at the window in the drizzle,

and to pray alone, and to feel alone in the evening.

The eve of a departure is always so sad, dear soul.