It has never been so sad

I got on the train to see you off, oh!

It had never been so sad as I felt so.

Paris City in this winter situation

for ever and ever generates separation.

To see you leave for our motherland

I kissed you good-bye, did you understand

that nothing was longer to make me craze

than an absence of a hundred days.

The yellow lights at the Lyon train station

and the falling snow were sorry mentation.

Holding your hands I wanted to cry,

but any tardy words would have run by.

We kissed each other this minute of the day,

then we were to part right away.

Cry, my love!

Keep crying, my dove!

so the grief through your tangled hair

in your tears as fallen stars that glare

soaked wet your shoulders softly fair.

Cry, my love!

Weep, my dove!

Oh my dormitory lover implied

so that the night dew-dampened roadside,

the path I walked, flowed wide

with your tears triste…

Alas, tonight’s gist!

It had never been this sad as I felt thus bad.

Paris City in wintertime

grows to a lifelong separation clime.

Your train covered with snow chagrined,

your carriage was cold, full of wind,

How couldn’t you feel it keen

to sense warmth in tonight’s dream scene,

and make it spread all over

the tracks of life in clover?

The sky you dreamt is with stars bright,

while I remained here in this lonely blight.

Paris City in this winter situation

has never shown any constellation.

Paris City in this winterly-tide

has never been so sad as it has signified.