Szomorú Vasárnap

Gloomy Sunday with a hundred white flowers
I waited for you, my dear, with a church prayer
Chasing dreams on a Sunday morning
My carriage of sorrow returned without you
Since then, Sunday is always sad
Tears are my drink, sorrow is my bread

Gloomy Sunday

Last Sunday, my dear, come
There will be a priest, a coffin, a bier, a mourning veil
Even then, flowers will await, flowers and - a coffin
Under flowery trees, my path will be the last
My eyes will be open to see you once more
Do not fear my eyes, even in death I bless you
Last Sunday