В русском варианте:
http://www.stihi.ru/2008/08/10/407
And now it all seems just like yesterday,
But not a sound or sight reminds me it's today,
I'm crying out aloud, my blues is on the top,
Weeks, months or years of waiting seems like it'll never stop.
What difference does it make? Perhaps this emptyness will bring
One call through darkness, one long waited ring.
But waiting is my virture, what else is there to do?
There are lots of calls, but not the ones that should get through.
What about me?! Forget this internet!
In the long run do you really care?
That something that I found in you is rare,
Perhaps it's just a World of dreams, a fantasy, a bet.
(с) Hugh Jazz
