Triste Domingo

Sad Sunday
With a hundred white flowers
Around me, around me
Where my soul has gone to bow down
While my mouth is calling you
Die in my dreams
Tired of waiting and loneliness

Sad Sunday
You don't understand the terrible anguish of my heart
Of waiting without seeing you arrive
Your steps fly that I must march
I want you to be the white and merciful
Shroud that covers my final hour
Sad destiny, beloved...

Next to my coffin surrounded by many flowers
A priest awaits the confession
And to him I say:
I love her, I wait for her
Don't be afraid if you find my eyes
Lifeless and open and waiting for you
Your hands are the ones that should close them
And perhaps then I will have died in peace

Fly my life, your dear step
The time has come for me to leave!
I want to have you on my final journey
And something tells me you won't arrive
Sad divine Sunday
That now in my grave
I must wait for!