Penélope

Penelope, with her brown leather bag
And her high heels and her Sunday dress
Penelope sits on a bench on the platform
And wait for the first train to arrive waving the fan

They say in the town that a walker
He stopped his watch one spring afternoon

Goodbye my love, don't cry for me
I will return before the leaves fall from the willows
Think of me I will come back for you

Poor unfortunate thing, your child's clock stopped
One leaden April afternoon when your lover left
Every last flower withered in your garden
There is no willow tree on Main Street for Penelope

Penelope, sad from waiting
His eyes seem to shine
if a train whistles in the distance
Penelope watches them pass one after another
She looks at their faces, she hears them talk, for her they are dolls

They say in the village that the traveler returned
He found her in her green pine bench

He called her: Penelope my faithful lover, my peace
Stop weaving dreams in your mind
Look at me, I'm your love, I'm back

He smiled at her with yesterday's full eyes
Her face or her skin was not like that
You are not who I expect

And she kept the brown leather bag
And her high-heeled shoes sitting at the station