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.
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