Like a sail that flashes at times
Over the eternal smooth surface of blue waters
Happiness seemed to be on the side
Somewhere on the horizon.

It seemed we will part as strangers
Trusting an unspoken name
And the rustle of poplars
To our memories.

It seemed we would take a piece
Of unattainable dream to a distant city
But we didnt know that we would soon come
Face to face with our destiny.

- translations by Igor Prokhorov of texts by Mira Mendelson