Isbella

She sings and dance,
Runs wild with merry face,
Her sweet voice sings with the wind,
A merry girl Isbella.

Last night I saw her from my windowpane,
She was in the street,
Walking slowly below the mnon lit street,
Tears in her eyes, Oh! Isbella.

Next day I saw the weather gray,
Isbella thence danced,...the grayness was bright,
Her glimmering face, piercing the dark clouds above,
The sun thus rose, her face bright and warm...

A day she smiled and danced,
The weather bright and warm,
The next day her face etched long haunting memories,
I thus asked, she and me, the night cold and stiff...

"Your merry face, the sun shines bright,
Next day your face etches long haunting memories,
I fondly wonder why it's so,
I get bothered, just why is it so?"

Her voice thus trembled,
She cried in a weeping note,
The night's cold wind howled,
The ocean's silence, raised in rage,
She held me close, I wiped her tears...

Her embrace spoke it all,
All her memories, blown by the wind,
She thus smiled, I was pleased,
Her daunting voice, now was sweet.

Thus the other day,
I then saw her on the street,
She waved to me, her merry face...her sweet song heard,
Those haunting memories, forever forgotten...

Merry Isbella,
Stay forever long,
Your tears shall never again fall,
Save your smile,
Everyone will see,
For a part of my love resides on thee...