Christmas Night

Once more I send to you a letter, Tenderly kissing its pages. And opening the bottle of your evil perfume, I'm inhaling its intoxication. And then, oh so clearly I see These thin black birds that are flying. From the bottle they fly to the south. From the bottle of Nuit de Noel. And soon once again comes the spring, When the youthful violins of Venice Will dance out your grief and your sorrow, Will dance out your gloom and despair. And then your sins seem not as bad, And your blue mistakes will become lighter. Please don't be afraid to share all your spring Kisses when almond trees begin to bloom. Please don't cry for me, my dear friend. I'm a bird that is frozen and soaking. My shaman stick master, he shows me no mercy. He makes me dance nonstop all day. And picking up the lucky tickets, I stare at the unhappy faces. And accompanied by cries of the charmer, I'm falling asleep on my feet. Once more I send to you a letter. I'm tenderly kissing its pages. Don't be angry at me for an unhappy end. So seductive are my bitter tears. And due to your evil perfume. All this is because of those black thoughts, Flying like birds from the bottle to the south, From the bottle called Nuit de Noel.