I’m listening for a kind of song,
A song about man and woman.
“L’été indien” – this is its name.
In my condition, it is moving.
Maybe, for singer text is abstract,
But now, for me, it is quite true.
While singing it I needn’t be an actor,
Alone with my feeling – feeling blue.
Including sense into my singing…
Of course, I’ve got a reason to do this.
The reason is that I can’t keep from thinking
About you, with whom I’ve once been singing with.
That time my love inspired me to sing,
And there also was a sense in that creation,
A little later, suddenly, love went away; to bring
It back it seems impossible. Forever all the passion
Will be a kind of dream of something passed for me…
I don’t feel love for you, I don’t feel anymore,
And that’s my state since last New Year.
But still I thank you for the love you gave to me.
By now I know that I loved just the you-ideal.
“Remaining friends – it is the best for us” –
That time I thought about it like this, my dear.
And now, surely, I understand: I can, I must
Keep silent when you go away from here.
But… it is painful when I let you go…
My dear, I want you to know:
My old love is somewhere inside me,
I’ll always love you, my ideal, my first love,
I will remember you as my first love.
By now, honey, that’s the right thing.