(In English)
Maybe it's my paradise
To search for his reflection
In the things of black color
And hear may (name of month) in voice

Maybe it's my paradise
In the beams of window light (light from the window)
The sky seems to be so close
When eyes are of the color "Paradise"

And it's good that he doesn' know
About a person like myself
And [it's good] that in my dreams
Vanilla snowflakes are winter

And under the barefoot steps
[there're] snowstorms and ice
Never again he will
Leave my thoughts

And I'm not ashamed to yell
That it is love
In three minutes his words
have burned through my blood
I keep repeating for myself
That everything's ok
But I undersand [that] I need him
still need him

Maybe it's my paradise
to ramble and pick up bouquets (flowers)
to save them (flowers) from the wind
and to lie that those flowers were given to me as a present

Of course, if it was not you
I wound not face the sunrises,
of your cold planet
where (on which) the bridges are divided