Penelope

Penelope

Penelope with her brown leather bag
Her high-heeled shoes and her Sunday dress
Penelope sits on a bench on the platform
And waits for the first train to arrive, fanning herself

They say in the village that a traveler paid
His watch with a springtime stroll
Goodbye my love, don't cry, I will return
Before the maple leaves fall...

Think of me, I will return for you
Poor unhappy one, her childish watch stopped
One lazy April afternoon when her lover left
She withered in her garden until the last flower.

There's no willow on the main street for Penelope
Penelope, Penelope... Penelope... that

Penelope, sad from waiting so long
Her eyes seem to shine, feeling the sky in the distance
Penelope sees them pass with different eyes
And she hears them talk from her face, they are dolls to her

And they say in the village that a traveler returned
And found her on her green pine bench
Oh love Penelope, my faithful lover, my peace
Stop weaving them in your mind

Look at me, I am your love, I returned
My smile with eyes full of yesterday
Her face and skin were not like that, you are not who I wait for
And she remained with her brown leather bag

Her high-heeled shoes sitting at the station
Penelope, Penelope, I wait for you, my Penelope, I wait for you