Carmen

Carmen

The room is warm, the wood is crackling in the fire,
I'm standing by the window with a cup of hot coffee in my hand,
drinking it slowly with the sounds of Krutoy,
watching the snow fall outside
and the snowflakes sway quite gently,
as if they are listening with me:
"Ты в моем Сентябре".

A smile on my face, love in my heart, you in my mind,
my lost little girl in the body of a grown woman,
your shy glance that runs away,
every time I look at you longer
into those eyes that are like those of a timid doe.

Carmen,
there is the picture written in time and memory:
snowflakes lost in your hair looking for a way,
our glances for a moment as long as eternity,
your kiss pressed into my palm,
the trembling of your body while you are in my arms.

Zera Princ