Whispers of Riverbank

When the moon play hide and seek

on the black mountain peak,

when the soft winds blow,

and the flames of your cigarette glows,

when the cold water touches your feet,

and drains away your heart's heat,

it's time to think,

for you are on love's brink.

The water begins to make faces

of the old friends of the old ages.

Everything seems fine,

but the hearts feels so confined...

of what?

I don't know.