Don't trust him, sometimes yourself,
When return I have wanted home.
The one who has thrown this house once,
But again it is knocked under your window.

In what love inconceivable sense
Love not a lodge old idle time.
Whose walls can be bleached anew,
And every time to glaze a window.

Love as fantastic palace,
The fairy tale and to the palace the end has disappeared.
The love is the base monolith,
Will crack, the palace won't resist.

Don't trust him, sometimes yourself,
When the fugitive asks home.
There where ruins in ashes and in blood,
How to revive the palace of former love?