Your name was Waïla, but people called you Violetta, in memory of the violets from your native Algeria. Now you live in Paris. And I, Alfredo, have loved you since we met, with a noble love that no one else could give you, especially not that Baron taking advantage of you. But love moves in mysterious ways: one day you say being with me is delightful, and the next you run from me, torment me. What are you hiding, Violetta?
A contemporary free-verse version of Verdi's famous opera.