They light up candles for me every evening, Your fumigated image, is so sweet. But I donít want to know that time is healing And everything must pass along with it. Iíll never know the loss of peace and quiet For all I had, stored in my soul, for a whole year, She took along with her when setting out First for the voyage, then for the trip by air. I have a desert in my soul, all bare. Why should you stand like that over my empty soul, all day? Iíve got song snatches and a web in there, And nothing more, - sheís taken all away.                 My soul has roads without destinations, Just search it, and youíll find for once Some phrases and unfinished conversations, The rest is taken up by Paris, France. They light up candles for me every evening, Your fumigated image, is so sweet. But I donít want to know that time is healing, It doesnít heal but lacerates my feeling For everything must pass along with it.
© Alec Vagapov. Translation, 1999