Basnicky.sk

Gone are the memories.
Gone with the wind.
Gone is the flower
which has never lived.

Waving, holding in trance.
They know, it’s all in vain.
That there‘s no chance
of seeing each other again.

Sure, there are feelings.
Sure, he and she loves.
When after quarrel,
You can see doves.

Her presence gives him life.
His touch makes her wild.
Their love makes them blind.
Don’t mind their story behind.

As they both shyly walk
on a snow covered street.
For the first time they talk,
For the first time they meet.