Beatrice

lyrics: Björn Ulvæus
translation: Ruben Landman

One night, when autumn blew the frost into my silent room
into poems and fantasies my thoughts just couldn’t bloom,
then suddenly a fog appeared, a phantom at my bed
it didn’t scare me, though there was some breathing near my head

A veil then swept against my chin, and all that had been cold
was thawing in the warmth of an odd story being told
she wore a gown, so wide and white, that night in which she came
proud and strong with spark’ling eyes she turned and called her name

Beatrice, Beatrice
move to me right now
take my hand and demonstrate
that I can sing – and how
Beatrice, Beatrice
help me, am I wrong?
you who won’t get tired, though
you’ve known the way so long
maybe in this night we’ll find
our final, perfect song

I’m sitting and I’m waiting here, yet knowing I’m a fool
with my empty glass and my guitar’s an unused tool
I’m waiting for a roaming girl who sometimes comes my way
she’ll come, she won’t come, I think, but she’ll come anyway

Beatrice, Beatrice
move to me right now
take my hand and demonstrate
that I can sing – and how
Beatrice, Beatrice
help me, am I wrong?
maybe in this night we’ll find
our final, perfect song
hurry into flames and
fly into them, burn and
turn away, for

Beatrice, Beatrice
move to me right now
take my hand and demonstrate
that I can sing – and how
Beatrice, Beatrice
help me, am I wrong?
you who won’t get tired, though
you’ve known the way so long
maybe in this night we’ll find
our final, perfect song

Copyright © QYXZ/Ruben Landman, Ede (NL). Alle rechten voorbehouden. Stockfoto's: Pexels.com