I fell in love with a beauty.
I grew pale and wan
Sometimes sedate, sometimes crazy,
I wandered around on and on
Neither its nights nor its days are certain
Its days are many. If you say its years, it is fifty
Those who fall for and love a beauty
It is clear not in words but from their eyes
My life was spent on their roads
I became an old man
Sometimes sedate, sometimes crazy
I wandered around on and on
Neither its nights nor its days are certain
Its days are many. If you say its years, it is fifty
Those living through these days for the sake of a friend
It is clear not in words but from their eyes
Those who fall for and love a beauty
It is clear not in words but from their eyes