Hymn of Unhappened Love

For my unhappened wanted love I sing my hymn in our present, Oh, dream, don’t call my name, enough, All our feelings are not pleasant. Oh, die illusion without words And take with all these painted pictures From fantasies and boyish thoughts I trampled shoes I need no preachers. Farewell! Don’t call me in sweet home Your home’s so far, I cannot find it You’re passing by my window; go I was in love and I was blinded. It never happened, all has gone And cruel fate has fist for showing The snow of June took out my own And sadness scars my soul in mourning.