Alt Spanisch
Old Spanish
Koch
A girl, standing at her window,
Looks as far as she can see.
Her cheeks are pale, and heavy-hearted
She sings of happiness departed:
‘My love’s not coming back.’
Evening draws in gently,
A star yearns for the night
And in the wind, quite softly,
Music from a fearful dream,
Echo-like, repeats the theme:
‘My love’s not coming back.’
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