You come into the station's waiting room
with a gust of wind and a daze of water,
sit quietly by the door, you took your time to compose yourself
then and only then you lift your head, you screened the room...
Oh, it was only me, plus two old ladies on the other corner,
no one that might interest you,
your gaze turned inside, inside just like that.
Oh, but I couldn't resist admiring you for a while,
you with the most perfect lips, reminding me of strawberries
now that is high Winter, a feeling of the ripeness of Summer
Oh, I envy the one who is going to drink from those perfect lips,
Young Madonna.
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