Neznáma

With an aura of comfort

Upon the moon I gaze

An echo of love she croaks


From a distant valley

She speaks of sweet whisperings

Born from the lips of a woman


Summoned forth by temptation

I scurry in lieu of the passion

These sweet whisperings bring me


Perhaps this woman may not ever

Hear what I might say but,

She's worth every breath


Oh, how she haunts my memory so...

The cause for my fear of the unknown

Yet, dearly I still adore her




And with a twinkle

Into the dawn she faded...

Misery and I are

Destined to elope