Evening in Paris

Lilac twilight roams around
Touching trees casually and languidly.
Circles on the water, like thoughts in a circle
Unpredictable, restless.
Lilac twilight the wind predicts.
They prophesy for tomorrow. And at this moment
Submissively and quietly, in anticipation of the night,
Purple shadows fall on the grass.
Purple shadows. Purple shadows.
There is no doubt: let it be as it will.
Purple shadows will melt in the morning.
Nobody will know. No one will judge
Neither this silence nor this fall
That only lasts a moment
When on the threshold of a windless night
Lilac twilight the wind predicts.
They prophesy - for tomorrow ...