Flickan och kråkan [English translation]

(Intro)

The other day I sat reading my paper,

A day like so many gone by.

And I though of all the ambitions I’ve haved,

That one after one have died.

Then, I saw a sketch of a girl,

With a shotwounded crow in her arms.

She’s running out of the forest

As fast as she possibly can.

She’s running with flowing treastles,

She’s running on scrawny legs.

And she begs and she prays and she hopes and she feels,

It’s not already too late.

(Intermission)

The girl is so tiny, her hair is so blond,

But her cheeks are exhautedly red.

The crow, it is clumsy and crowing and black,

In a minute it will soon be dead.

The grirl still runs for survival,

With a shotwounded bird in her arms.

She’s running for safety and for some light,

For all that is good and is right.

And she’s running with mourning faceset,

She’s running on scrawny legs.

’Cause she knows it is true what daddy had raid,

If there’s life there, there is always a way.

(Intermission)

And I started shivering in pain and in fear,

I shivered in horror and grief.

I noticed that in the image right there,

That the image was of myself.

My hope is a shotwounded crow.

I am a running child.

Who believes there is help to be found.

That someone truly minds.

And I’m running with flowing trestles.

I’m running on scrawny legs.

And I beg and I moan though deep down I know,

It’s already quite too late.