French Restaurant Poem by Tatiana Zirka

French Restaurant



To Jean-Yves Francais



It’s cosy – french smallet restaurant
The burning candle and the light is pale...
The charming music – sweet of poison
Is wrapping up my shoulders like veil.

You’ll give me hand – the dance ‘ll embrace us
And I will cling to you with little trembling
The magic touching perfume’s renessance
And silk of dress... and skin you will be sensing.

Is only touched by lips the wine bordeux
Si j’etais elle - the soul moans slightly
When gutarial-melodious words of yours
Not understanding feel I with my pamlet.

Mon Francais – as if in wonderland
And little laugh and kiss in hand while dancing
And like a flying pental – s’il vous plait...
With acute ache happiness will answer.

All lanterns are put out. It is time...
Is running me like white bird airplane…
And cosy and smallet restaurant...
It’ll never be returning more again.


November 2008

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Tatiana Zirka

Tatiana Zirka

Russia
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