I will never forget (Did it really happen
On that night of a flamy sunset?)
Fire burnt and expanded the colorless heaven,
Leaving only street lamp silhouette.

I was sitting alone in a crowded tavern,
Fiddle’s singing about love pain,
I decided to send you a rose of black color
In a glass of sky-golden champagne.

You looked up and I met, was embarrassed and cocky,
Glance your royal and bowed my head.
You turned then to your friend, calculatedly corky,
“This one also in love” boldly said.

In an instant response loud sounded fiddles;
Passion was in the singing of strings.
You were mine in your scorn and the trembling of fingers,
Hard to notice in glittering rings.

You recoiled like a bird, scared been and surprised,
You went by as my dream feather-light.
Started breathing perfumes, fell asleep your eyelashes,
Silky fabrics chit-chatted and sighed.

But from mirror depth you threw glances at me
And, when throwing, shouted: “Get.”
… And a gypsy was singing, her necklaces ringing,
Her love song dissonant to sunset.

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