Dream if a dream, or either a hallucination,
My heart stuck on a land, in a city, at places.
I can’t help it, even if I would, I wish I could
Free my mind from my heart’s ceaseless call.
What if it was real? So what if was not?
The landscape revived my heart, then took it.
It painted green and red a grey stone,
Then, it felt no shame, stole it.
As if a child been playing at the Danube
With stones in the hand to throw it,
So that my heart went with the flow,
And here’s my mind to follow it.
I’m looking for traces where is that dream;
In the city, named Vienna.
What happened there? Why is this ease-,
Happiness- and grief-dyed dilemma?
The city is living, but it’s silent, no answers.
Rather, its streets walk hand in hand –
Days and nights, silently,
Its trolleys wear knowing smile seeing each other –
No rail can separate them forever,
Its elegant houses cuddle together –
Inside them, thousands of secrets,
Its grass in the parks are camping daylong –
Changing their places while caressing each other,
Its sky is the blanket of freedom –
Nobody can dream what happens under’,
Then, its river,
Danube that if only could run backwards,
Only could return my heart and mind,
Letting me leave from dream to dream,
Leaving this reality for another
Dream if a dream, but it happened
That I was living
With the city