My love left me
In April,
When the world was fresh and new;
My love left me
In the springtime,
When my heart was young and true.
Had he gone from me in summer
While I was harvesting grain;
Had I lost him in the autumn
When my heart was grey as rain;
Had he left me, old, in winter,
My heart would have known less pain—
But my love left me in April
And I shan’t know love again.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI