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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-01-21 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
Around us,
The empty tables, Whisper tales, Tales about dances they've seen, About hands they've touched. Above us, The ceiling watches Watches the footsteps, You left on the floor, Shaped in little flowers With the colors of a painter. Next to us, An old chair Invites you to sit, To claim your rest And enjoy, A timely kiss. The glasses topple Of joy and drunkenness, Because you're blushing To turn into a red apple. The hall is quiet, It fills with echoes, From our depths, From our passion. The windows open To receive a guest, The Moon itself, In shiny yellow dress. We stand still, On the old chair, The cries of pain And trouble in the chest. So beautiful this Lady was, So charming and yet so cold. A gentle voice, Then we suddenly heard: To love your queen As if she were Your most beautiful dream. Lady Moon, Gave us Her blessing And the house, With everything in it, Began to sing I love you, I love you, I promise.
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