By Irina Odoevtseva

 At night we're walking over an embankment,

It feels so good - together walking and together silent.

 

The Seine, a tree, and a cathedral,

Clouds we both perceive...

And that discussion for tomorrow,

Or for later, we will leave...

And maybe even later than next week,

At that,

Let's save it all for when we're...

Good and dead.