The Maritza is my river
just as the Seine' s yours, but I
guess now only my father
can still recall, remember
it, sometimes...
From my first ten years
as young girl
there is nothing that remains,
not even a poor little doll,
only, from the past, a little,
small refrain :
La la la..
All the birds of my river sang
for us the song of Liberty ,
Things I could half understand ,
yet , my father could listen
perfectly...
When the skyline turned black and low,
all the birds started to go
on the long pathway of hope
and all of us followed them
to Paris..
(spoken part)
From my first ten years , as young girl,
there is nothing that remains..
(sung)
And yet with my two eyes closed
I can still hear my father
sing
this refrain :...
la la la