Investigation of heart loss.

 Lubomír Tomik

 / for You, written at midnight /

 Soviet intelligence giggles,
 they have casual pirate bambitas at the waist,
 under the unbuttoned corsets,
 in the glow of the gas lamps,
 the plans are forging.

 In the room a wall, made of brick plaster,
 be cruelly sincere to me, 
I want you to hear my words, without napkins:

 You are again and again,
 the one who seduces me,
 i never loved more,
 than You.