Nothing will ever compare to my little Nightingale
Neither the prettiest lady nor the sexiest female.
For she bailed me out of my miserable tale
In a sea of pure pain and agony where I usually sail.

My little Nightingale is always busy
Caring for other people’s sickness, curing for other’s misery.
Helping weak people stand, making the babies a nursery,
Reaching for the poor people’s hand, and taking out my insanity.

But my little Nightingale knows nothing about this
For she loves to work in anonymity, and a place in peace.
But my beloved Nightingale knows nothing about this
For she captured my heart, this perfectly deity-like miss.

My little Nightingale knows not one single thing.
‘Tis the feeling I feel inside, ‘tis the desire I always hide.
That I want to see her dressed in full white, marching at the center of an aisle,
With the priest commanding me, “ You may now kiss your bride!”