1.
Her autumn dance was strange and slow
For audience, tired in a theatre hall.
In that ballet she had some name,
But music played out of tune many years.
All violins cried, the piano talked,
Like people, influenced by alcohol.
But once in night she realized:
It’s time to run, it’s time to find someone.
Припев:
Her own view…
Her own theatre…
Her own public…
And it doesn’t matter,
What people say,
If you are flying
In winter dance
On wings of sunny spring.
Her happiness
Is not exclusive:
The world surrounding
And the sounds of music
And finally her lovely hero,
Inspiring her on the creative work.
2.
Of course, you’ll say (and it’s a fact):
She’s not a star, her image isn’t smart.
But winter dance saved her from lies
Of modern art and brought a paradise.
She loves like mad, she sings and shines,
There’s light and tender in her grey-blue eyes.
Like nightingale, she found her rose
And married poems with a bit of prose.
Припев
Первая редакция - апрель 2010 г., вторая редакция - июнь 2013 г., третья редакция - январь 2014 г.