From the fragments of an image entered into my dream
I am searching to find out what pleases you
The grey, troubled sky mirrored in the teacup
Has dispelled in the daylight as you raise it to your lips
It’s not that I love everything about you
It’s like the wind, or a scar, or the murmur of the sea
Erotic
From among the languid scales you are playing
A note, perhaps music, begins to sound
In that melody wrought carelessly from under your fingers there emеrges the trace of a dеsign
In a city seemingly bereft of life rings tomorrow’s requiem
And even I lose my will to live…
Please try to find out what pleases me
In that melody wrought carelessly from under your fingers there emerges the trace of a design
It’s not that I love everything about you
It’s like the wind, or a scar, or the murmur of the sea
Erotic