Блудный ангел

My prodigal angel
without lamentations and sighs ,
almost without looking at each other
in the uncertain light of candles,
again we are dancing tango.
And it's not so bad :
I do not care where you spent
one endless nights.

My prodigal angel
I myself - not a saint .
Often , I'm flying
in the attic and taverns,
where drinking poets,
where waiting for me as a prisoner waiting for the dawn .
I come like a Muse
right through the heart of them into verse .

My unrestrained angel
without further ado and unnecessary gestures
so we dance with you ,
ever so far!
How sweet it is the tango !
And , God, how jaded play !
But let . We are still together
and "stop" does not tell us the director.

Under our tango
longing not hiding , someone crying .
And someone dreams of affection
and closes his eyes .
Dance, my angel !
After all, we're not able to otherwise.
Let us left two bars ,
let it look the whole room .

September 1998 .