About Love
Misty distances beckon me again.
They show me patterns of love,
But my eyes don't hold anything,
My thoughts are not in the clouds.
I don't remember warm hands at all,
That once warmed my shoulders.
Sing cold, Blizzard, you're just a sound,
I only hear the song about bitterness.
And the distant song of love flows,
The kid with the guitar under the Windows,
Not about me, because he sings in the night,
And I am not shrouded in love.
In my dreams only a silhouette,
Forgotten by me, do not blame me.
I don't remember his name, he's not a poet,
Although no, you forget about dreams.
My heart has fallen asleep for a hundred years,
Like in the fairy tale of the rose and the spinning wheel.
No one found a ticket to that country,
And violets stand alone on the table.
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