I saw her at the only bus stop
In our little, forbidding town.
She seemed to be on the top -
The girl was getting me down.
I wanted to be just like she –
A young girl of the world
With a hand luggage- so free -
In a bus on the provincial road.
Colorful lights of a big city
Were on the lookout for her.
The bus departed, I felt pity –
I had to remain here forever.
Where are you, girl from the bus?
Where is your destination?
There was a difference between us,
Or... it’s only my imagination...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.