cARLA bRUNI - qUELQUÚN MA DIT

2011-05-05 3

It is said that our lives are worthless.
They pass in an instant like the roses wither.
It is said that time which whispers is a perversion for our griefs.
It make layers, still someone told me.

That you still love me,
Someone told me that you have lays love me.
Is that still possible?

It is said that destiny mocks us
That it promised everything and gives nothing
It seems that happiness is carried in the hand.
When you stretch the hand and find madness
Still someone told me...

But who told me that you love me?
I no longer remember, it was late at night.
I still hear the voice, but I no longer see the face.
"He loves you, it is a secret, he did not say that I should tell you.

You see, someone told me.
That you still love me, someone truly told me ...
That you still love me, is that possible?
It is said that our lives are worthless.
They pass in an instant like the roses wither.
It is said that time which whispers is perversion for our griefs.