He'll be coming ,just like the Moon
throwing fish-nets ,wearing blue blouse
he will catch all the stars very soon
and the light of the silver lighthouse
Then he'll sit on my window-pane
he will take out his old little book
in each word there's a song that remains
it is fire of lantern ... just look..
He'll be gentle ...and I'll be in love
then he will believe in the tales
the Moon will have spread nets above
he will feel that it's real... by trails
He will look deep down in my eyes
to remember what really Love is
how it looks ,how it wistfully shines
how it happens,why,where -inside us...
Then walking away with the dawn
She will carry a new pure dream
up in sky with tumbled stars, shown
Love to stop her,you know what I mean ...