The Lonely Lover

An old story is told by the passing of days.

Its lines are written by the fleeting hours.

An old story is told by the passing of days.

Its pages are preserved into the hearts of the nightly hours.

An old story is told by the passing of days.

It is about unveiling the untold story of a lonely lover.

The untold story of a lonely lover who lives in the absolute solitude.

The absolute solitude which is ever present in the inexplicable weird melodies of the blackness of the nightly hours.

The absolute solitude which is ever present in the voiceless stillness of the queer silence.

A lonely lover, you can feel his presence, on every street corner.

A lonely lover, with an indescribable pain in his heart, standing alone, looking at the passersby.

A lonely lover, you can feel his presence, at every crossroads.

A lonely lover, with an indescribable pain in his heart, standing alone, looking at the passersby.

When his compassionate heart feels sad for the passersby,

its compassionate pulse turns into a flux of tears.

A flux of tears which mingles with a torrent of crystal raindrops.

A torrent of crystal raindrops that falls on the windowpanes of the depressed widows.

The depressed widows who are listening to the inexplicable weird melodies of the blackness of the nightly hours.

The melodies which tell them about a unique loving heart.

A unique loving heart that is always very near.

When his compassionate heart feels sad for the passersby,

its sadness always turns into a bitter sigh.

A bitter sigh which mingles with the cool autumn breeze.

The cool autumn breeze that blows smoothly on the foreheads of the homeless children.

The wordless autumn breeze that tells the homeless children about the unique caring heart which is still very near.

An old story is told by the passing of days.

Its lines are written by the fleeting hours.

It is about unveiling the untold story of a lonely lover.

A lonely lover, in each captivating landscape, you can see him sitting alone,

Sitting alone, painting his masterpieces,

neglected by all.