My dearest Leyla,
Today, the end of a nasty November,
Somebody plucked my chrysanthemum,
Somebody damaged my car,
And my business has not been doing well.
Who bothers about them?
I remember those November days
And long for my two ladies.
They are naked and play the music of naked truth.
My two ladies, you and your violin.
Your two audiences, me and my Teddy Tulin.
G G Gench