Song: The portrait work of Pablo Picasso

Again, I'm dreaming, the same dream.
It revolves in my mind like a wheel:
You in the dress standing, holding in his hand a flower,
The hair fall off the shoulder like Golden silk.
Mine and not mine, it's not mine.
Well, who is it who pulled you away? Tell me at least now.
I'm having cherry lips
And stems of the white hands -
Passed all passed
It remains only the dream.
Left to me,
In memory of you,
Portrait your portrait
The Work Of Pablo Picasso.