Last Sunday by Z. Friedwald

Now is not the time for reservations —

The fact is that everything has ended:

Suddenly a rich man came, better than me a priori,

In a moment with you he stole my happiness.

I have a request, my last request —

The first in years.

Today, last Sunday,

Give me for a moment. at least

Past our Sunday…

We are parting now,

We will part forever

At this hour.

Past Sunday

Do not be sorry to give me as a sacrifice,

Give me the pearls of your glance

For the last time.

You have enough Sundays,

And with me there will be darkness.

Sunday has flown away into the distance,

All dreams have been incinerated,

The happiness that we so desired,

Ended like this.

Sundays are enough for you

And with me there will be darkness

This last Sunday

All dreams have ended -

Happiness, that we so desired

A simple trifle.