There are no poems to write…
If everything we feel is right…
There are no comments to make
If the unloved are now dead…
There’s nothing more to do…
If every time I stare at you…
There’s no doubt everything’s true…

From Prague to Paris…
Our hearts are sighing…
Fresh red roses are carried
Trough the Road of Love
The one that connects Paris and Prague…

There are no tears to drop
If our love cannot be stopped
There’s no loneliness to share
If our bodies beat one inside the other
There are no love stories to read
Because we are writing with hot blood
The one that will hug all cold hearts.

From my heart to yours
Paris and Prague are sighing
Hugs and kisses are carried
Trough the road of love
The one that conects our hearts.

No hi han Nobels de literatura si escric pensant en tu…

Tags: Liebling, Literologia, Vida i misèria //