If the heavens don't help us with a cross, your image will die out
If my pity is my virtue when I speak to you, you'll have to walk away
If my sleep reaches the image of your look, I will be where you hide
If my hands tremble when you turn your face
I will forget my courage
If the storms of my pain doesn't lull, you'll have to hurt me
If your reflection haven't disappeared from the mirror, I'd have to break it
If the pain of the departure puts obstacles in my path, I'll follow you in your voyage
If the sun doesn't appear in the fog, the night will carry us away
You and me…
And if the silence falls as the veil of a winter rain
And if we return to the people dear to us…