Sweet peas on a warm night
Opens petals under the moon
A delicate scent flows and freshness,
And an aching tenderness soars.
So they want to entrust a secret,
The one that avoids light and day,
What I would like to believe in
That in which I am so afraid to be mistaken!
And I press against your cheek,
And I blush, hugging you,
And I kiss you, and I am embarrassed:
Indeed, I am too young!
And sweet peas laughs,
Under the dew, he bent down to the ground.
I don’t see your eyes, but with my skin
I feel: you smiled too.
And with a laugh, I throw myself into my arms
And I make stupid speeches.
My dress was soaked with dew.
Flower kisses burn my shoulders.
