My heart is a sad ballerina,
Happiness is leaving
Her fluid movements.
Who will come to dance
The marvelous pas de deux
With her?
Her ballet steps are hesitant now,
Her pointe shoes bleed on the stage.

Here and there, tear-like ballerinas secretly whisper,
"Our soloist ballerina is dancing with air angels,
Her pirouettes are imperfect now,
Her tour en l'air looks like
The wind in agony".


My heart is a sad ballerina,
She wants no more the applause of the world,
But the marvelous pas de deux
With Happiness.