Let us go to the streets with endless names and a crying dame
And walk the night out of her shame.
Let us go when it's nighttime and the moon shines in flames
To where the whisperers speak and the politician shrieks.
Let us go to the streets where our eyes speak to the people who greets.
And they'll say 'How would you like your coffee today?'
Like warning the people; impending doom is on its way.
Let us go the streets where two paths meet
And pick the one where flowers grow in a heartbeat.
Let us go to the field to see the trees dance awkwardly,
To a tune of the wind that moves like a lady.
Let us go at twilight to see the moon,
And measure our love with a coffee spoon
Let us go by the fall of the first morning dew,
For its poetry is so pure and true.
But I think I shall never see anything that imbues
A poem as beautiful as you.
