Penélope
With her brown leather bag
And her high-heeled shoes
And her Sunday dress
Penélope
Sits on a bench by the platform
And waits for the first train to arrive
Waving her fan
They say in the town
That a walker stopped her clock
On a spring evening
Goodbye, my love
Don't mourn me, I'll be back
Before the willows leaves fall
Think of me, I will return to you
Poor thing
The clock of your childhood stopped
On a gray evening of April
When your lover left
Every flower in your garden
Withered
There's not a single willow on the main street
For Penélope
Penélope
Sad from waiting
Her eyes seem to shine
If a train whistles in the distance
Penélope
Watches them pass one by one
Looks at their faces, she hears them talk
To her they're just puppets
They say in the town
That the walker returned
He found her on her green pine bench
He called her
"Penélope, my faithful lover, my peace
Stop weaving dreams in your mind
Look at me, I'm your love, I'm back"
She smiled at him
With her eyes full of yesterday
That was not his face or his skin
"You are not the one I'm waiting for"
And she stayed
With her brown leather bag
And her high-heeled little shoes
Sitting at the station