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"Don't come late!"
You say to me with care,
Without ever making a fuss
About what you ask me, softly.
"Don't come late!"
And I pray to God that in the end
Your heart still holds
A little love for me.

You know well
That I'm off to another woman,
That she keeps me too,
That I only do what she wants,
You can feel
That I'm lying and I'm a coward,
But you can say, smiling,
"My love, don't come late!"

"Don't come late!"
You say to me without bitterness,
When your heart burns
In the fire of jealousy.
"Don't come late!"
You say to me from the window,
And I always come later,
Because I don't know how to escape her.

You know well,
That I'm off to another woman.
That she keeps me too,
That I only do what she wants.

Without joy,
I confess, I'm scared,
That you might tell me one day,
"My love, don't come too soon!"

Ironically,
Since I never know where you go,
That I arrive early someday,
And it's too late!"