XXLove letters

 

 

 

When everything is said and done,

 

 

 

 

She moves in time with the rain,

He paints streets in a slapdash manner,

He’s spilled too much rainy paint,

May be he is insane,

A painting is seen as a whole,

He briskly steps back and looks at his web with his eyes half-closed,

Meantime she disappears round the corner,

 

Buds haven’t swollen yet,

The ocean of roofs has been breathing,

It inhales morning mist,

The mill doesn’t turn,

 Pigalle is a lazy seed,

Behind the veil of fog Gods and mysteries hide,   

Spring wakes up slowly from  winter coma,

 

The word ‘sadness’ will be replaced,

 ‘Melancholy’ sounds better,

It’s more beautiful,

It’s the disease of aristocrats and cats,

She’ll leave the most precious piece of herself,

In the place where she loved,

Before the thin heels vanish into thin air,

 

Don’t believe what they say,

Love is not inexhaustible,

No,

One day it ends,

One night it breaks a heart,

You’ll revive it,

It won’t beat,

No twitch in response,

No motion in winter glow,

 

She almost runs down rue de Clichy,

Her heart is brave,

Her mind is a coward,

Maybe she is insane,

Addressed letters are in her bag,

The woman hastily enters Nouvelle Athenes,

Paris is a fantastic place where everyone meets everyone,

Without meeting each other,

Not just for a cup of coffee.