Never on Sunday

From my window, I send off
one, two and three and four kisses
that reach the harbor
(as though) one and two and three and four birds

How I wished I had
one and two and three and four children
once they would all grow up
would become "dashing" lads, for Piraeus's sake

No matter how I search, I cannot find another harbor
to make me crazy over it, as much as the Piraeus
where, as soon as night falls, (it) pours out "songs" for me
and its "pen-sketches" changes, gets filled up with children

As soon as I walk out my door
there's no one I would not "love"
and as I go to sleep at night
I know that, I know that I will be dreaming of him

Gems, I set on my neck
and a bead (as a) lucky charm
for at night I await, as I go out to the harbor
a certain "stranger" to find