What doesn’t work, to cure it,
what weeps, to console it,
what bleeds, to heal it.
On a burning forehead, a caress,
a hand that – like a cloth – wipes
the sweat of the days,
the uncertainty of dreams,
the waiting, the fear, the sadness.
Do not leave me alone tonight,
don’t leave me alone this evening,
now that darkness has fallen,
now that the sun has gone...
When you say it’s coming back are you sincere?
Don’t leave me alone tonight,
don’t leave me alone in the dark,
don’t leave me alone,
not yet.
Stay with me,
tell me a story,
say you’ll be there,
if it comes or if it doesn’t
that sun tomorrow,
tell me you are going to stay.