Although July, ice spikes are hanging off my lips,
You’ve greeted me again with blizzard,
You’ve smothered fire, though it still smouldered a bit,
Every day I burn up at your side,
I put the key, up the mouth slit,
Let there be silence,
The eager knife, in drawer’s hide,
Is ready for the parting,
I thought that I will wait
this arctic chill is gone,
Under warm blanket my bones will coil.
I skulk like coward at the polar circle’s edge,
In constant search for the love vector,
I put the key, up the mouth slit,
Let there be silence,
The eager knife, in drawer’s hide,
Is ready for the parting,