A waltz,
A strange waltz
Takes up all the space
In my reverie
And in my life,
It evokes
A distant ?period,
A baroque decor,
Ancient Russia
And its follies
And I invent
An immense city
That sings and who dances
Saint Petersburg
White nights.
I escape,
Rolled in these waves,
Touched by the thanks.
I close my eyes.
It's wonderful...
And my waltz
Turns in the mirrors
A whole palace
Gold and crystal,
Those ball evenings.
Long dress,
Flight of a dove,
Light and shadow,
Everything turns? time
Around me.
I have a fever
Blood on my lips
The fire of the party.
I don't know no more
If I dream...
And I dance
In my white dress,
Two fingers under the sleeve
Of a young aspirant.
I'm seventeen years old.
This waltz,
It's only the waltz
Only the orchestra in front,
In this cabaret,
br/>Play non-stop.
My handsome prince
Is neither tall nor thin.
In the bitter cold,
He does his job.
It's the doorman
From the pale sky.
A dirty snow
Descends in gusts
And falls without noise
On Pigalle...
Signs
In letters that bleed
Light up and go out
In the heart of Paris
Hotel de Russia...
Russia Hotel...
Russia Hotel...

INVIA LE CORREZIONI