Čte Komtesa D.O. , v Restauraci v Paříži, se svolením. Napsal L.T.
Pro Tebe.

Lyrics:

Restaurant in Paris.

Lubomír Tomik

when all the guests left,
we locked and
sat opposite each other

at a small wooden table in the corner

eager for all those specialties,

was enough
that we hold our hands
and through the interpretation across the path behind the railing
the Seine flowed lazily

engraved a smile on Your face,

the wind blows on its surface orange and
yellow fallen leaves

to our hunger.