You will look for me when the sun will dry your tear
and passenger lovers will accuse your pain,
when you escape from the world’s horror and fear,
when the gentle breeze’s music will fall down as rain.
Or not…

You’ll look for me when your excuses will be drowned
and your warm, ruby glance ​​will look for an answer,
when my laugh will have a contagious sound,
when you meet me on the street, in the arms of a dancer.
Or not…

You’re going to look for me, grumpy and full of hesitation,
when the thighs of the nights will be closer than yesterday,
when I’ll not look back for a long time from love’s station,
when rhymes will be written on violin accords, in my holiday.
Or not…

You’re going to look for me and ask me with your sight
if red rose petals of romance had fallen over my life,
but I will not let the flame burn me anymore, in the night,
even if your memory I will let it go, without a strife.
Or not…


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