The flowers and the rain
They accompany me
In my hours of nostalgia
And of sadness
It takes away my thoughts
The distance
To make my life
A cinder
The bower has already dried up
The sky denied the water
Thus your haughty heart
I can't hear myself
Like a wandering bird I will live
Seeking oblivion of my pain
With the longing for your love
I will die
Now the bower It dried up
The sky denied the water
Thus your haughty heart
I do not listen to myself
Like a wandering bird I will live
Seeking oblivion to my pain
With the longing for your love
I will die

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