Cypresses whisper in a red evening.
The entire year passes along a cold street in snow and trembling lanterns.
There is a nightingale in black thorns of the Corsica tree.
Dry violets crumble into your hair,
Bringing night and stars.
Cypresses whisper in a red evening.
The entire year passes along a cold street in snow and trembling lanterns.
There is a nightingale in black thorns of the Corsica tree.
Dry violets crumble into your hair,
Bringing night and stars.