caught out in the rain

La Ville De L'amour by Anna Koutsidou

I don’t know what you think about me, but I say
with my hand on my fountain that I’m a river.
So please beautifully, come to my riparian valley.
Wash your eyes in my water, so you can see me
and to see yourself how handsome you are with
your reflection mirrored inside of my stream.
Look at me and let me those drops that know
how to dance an impeccable waltz with the time,
one that reinvents your face in my liquid mirror.
For being a river, I ask you to seat on my stones
and to listen to about how and who sings to you.
Walk with your dry soles in my water, everybody
to believe me when I’m talking about how perfect
is your silhouette, — but ignore all my doubts for
I dunno if I want you to swim in me for I’m afraid.
I’m too afraid I’ll stop myself from my own course.
So better you taste my water so I can able to flow
in your body, upstream and downstream, shaking
in you and with your will, me to become your font.
I don’t know what you think about me, but I say
with my hand on your fountain, that I am a river.
So please be nice. If you think of leaving me, it’s ok.
Do it. You’re already caught out in the rain with me.

Beth Hart

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