As the wind blew the kisses from an old spruce,
njej, ležeči pod krošnjo, misel uhajala je na pokazani plus.

Her feet were tickeled by the grass coloured green,
'Tudi dete bi škakljalo', srce ponudi opomin.

Is this the feeling of enternal love?
Brez pogojev, brez koraka, brez okov?

The questions were answered through majestic sun,
ko vračala se je v svoj sivi vsakdan.

'Live!', she screamed on an empty street,
slišale so jo le rože betonskih korit.

margarina