Since you went away, nothing is the same. Days without you for longer to me very much, my dear. That I am unhappy. And not because of you. Oh, why we had to drink a death? Because I'm dying Tristan, die from miłośi to you, and despair that we can be together. I know that you feel the same, because if we live only for ourselves, and if we die, it's just time.
If I could but know that you are alive and well, at least in body, I would be glad. I think about you and dnaimi whole night, and when I'm alone, you cry. I cry that I is not here, I can not get enough eyes and hearts of Thy sight. I have to pretend to be happy, create the appearance of spies and my king. Uciekłabym to you my beloved, if Mark was not so good and if they do not love me so. When I'm next to him hate even more that I can not reciprocate the love of so noble a man, what is your uncle. Despite enormous efforts, I can not be happy with him, because I still think about you. I remember our trip, our meetings and my heart breaks.
You promised me Tristan Land of Eternal Life, why do not we go to her now, now? Why we must die slowly, away from each other? It hurts so much my dear.
Often I think it's God's punishment for our sinful love, and if God wills it, it probably has to be right. But I just want an end separate lives, so I dream about just a glass house with you Your Isolde
Tristan dearest!
Since you went away, nothing is the same. Days without you for longer to me very much, my dear. That I am unhappy. And not because of you. Oh, why we had to drink a death? Because I'm dying Tristan, die from miłośi to you, and despair that we can be together. I know that you feel the same, because if we live only for ourselves, and if we die, it's just time.
If I could but know that you are alive and well, at least in body, I would be glad. I think about you and dnaimi whole night, and when I'm alone, you cry. I cry that I is not here, I can not get enough eyes and hearts of Thy sight. I have to pretend to be happy, create the appearance of spies and my king. Uciekłabym to you my beloved, if Mark was not so good and if they do not love me so. When I'm next to him hate even more that I can not reciprocate the love of so noble a man, what is your uncle. Despite enormous efforts, I can not be happy with him, because I still think about you. I remember our trip, our meetings and my heart breaks.
You promised me Tristan Land of Eternal Life, why do not we go to her now, now? Why we must die slowly, away from each other? It hurts so much my dear.
Often I think it's God's punishment for our sinful love, and if God wills it, it probably has to be right. But I just want an end separate lives, so I dream about just a glass house with you
Your Isolde