Tulips, as a metaphor of the past passing away.
Tulips are the intention for leaving the ground.
The city of tulips where the rain reigns,
The city of tulips, don’t try to turn me down.
I remember the days when we were younger,
Broke and honest, with eyes wide open at this amazing world.
Now your anger is like a bolt of thunder,
And my beauty is no longer solid gold.
You are the one who stands behind this mystery,
You have chosen lavishness for yourself,
What if we still try and go down in history?
I would like to preserve your emotions
Without touching you, without moving any shelf.
The streets are full of all kinds of people,
Diagrams post all sorts of lies,
I remember your look when you hold the others dearly,
In the same way please remember mine.
Overpopulation and lost churches,
The remnants of dignity and music of our allies,
I disappear among old, lonesome birches,
You hunt for the others who silently cry.
© Maryna Tchianova, 2019