Penelope (en inglés)

Penelope
Penelope, with her brown leather bag
And her high-heeled shoes
And her Sunday dress
Penelope sits on a bench on the platform
And waits for the first train
Waving her fan
They say in the village that a passerby stopped
His watch one afternoon in spring
Goodbye my love, don’t cry for me, I’ll be back
Before the willows lose their leaves
Think of me, I’ll be back for you

Poor unhappy girl, her childish watch stopped
One leaden afternoon in April
When her lover left
Down to the last flower withered in her garden
There is no willow on Main Street
For Penelope
Penelope, sad from waiting for so long
Her eyes seem to shine
If a train whistles in the distance
Penelope, one after another she watches them go by
She looks at their faces, she hears them talk
For her they are dolls
They say in the village that the passerby came back
He found her on her green pine bench
He called her, Penelope, my faithful lover, my peace
Stop weaving dreams in your mind now
Look at me, I’m your love, I came back
She smiled at him with eyes full of yesterday
His face and his skin weren’t like that
You’re not the one I’m waiting for
And she stayed there with her brown leather bag
And her high-heeled shoes
Sitting in the station
Sitting in the station
Penelope, with her brown leather bag slung over her shoulder, her high-heeled shoes clicking on the platform, and her Sunday dress flowing in the breeze, exudes an air of elegance and anticipation...