Fall so quickly on the lane
Of the park with flowers blue
Withered leaves, like all those vain
Fantasies I shared with you.
In the light that starts to fade
Covered by a silky cloud,
Passes now a dreamy maid
With a major tall and proud.
He is blushing, very shy,
Tries his temper not to lose,
While she's crushing the leaves dry
With her small and glossy shoes.
And in this bizarre misfit
With what hear and what they see,
They walk separately a bit,
He a major, minor she...
Translator: Octavian Cocoş
see more poems written by: George Topîrceanu
