I love this little polish café
away from the hustle and bustle of Brussels.
It exudes a mysterious softness and soothing quiet.
Warsaw\'s winter story few years ago ...
In front of my coffee ,attentive observer ,
I am writing a letter to this friend who is only myself
and your name in my mind ...
Old romance taking me back in time .
Tender Beata you were close to me,café Mozaika .
There was a sweet warmth in the air
a few mood of marzipan ,some gingerbread feelings
and your discreet violet water ....
Outside the snow flakes whirled like a merry mazurka .
Beata , a drop of tea danced on your lip
like a fragile pearl. Was it already like a tear of farewell ?
Time likes to play with memory in a romantic style ,
mischievously mixing the seasons of life ...
We\'re left with only the bitter taste of some creamy sweets
and ocean of regrets in an empty mug ...
I love this little polish café who offers a slow baltic tide
to the languor of my flat country ...