Iluzia unei insule [English translation]

Tonight is departure to my island

A carriage made of walnut waits for you at the steps

Again, wear thick clothing and do not be late

Because you might have to defend yourself against police dogs

Do not make problems, the carriage driver is dead

And the horses are dead, and the carriage is dead…

We will run without witnesses into I don’t know what haven

In my island, at five, heads are cracked.

Do not make problems, the carriage driver is dead

And the horses are dead, and the carriage is dead.

Over there, will arise monstrous children

Lackeys, metallic and dirty, will sneer

They will cram us with news of old men and ancestors

Tick tack telegraph wet cadavers

They will shoot three color films, from the evil eye

And will send into the cosmos for years on end...

As though in glass vessels putting into each an eye

The fourth eye for keeping us in the building

Will shoot three color films, from the evil eye

And will send into the cosmos for years on end

Do not make problems, it’s the middle of summer

It’s the middle of winter, a strange story

Again when you will climb into it, fruitlessly you will take fright

The carriage will seem to you like it is dead

It’s just illusion, I am on the other side

You wait with torches four thousand six hundred…

In vain you are bewildered because it snows forever

Because guards on the road smoke silently

It’s just illusion, I am on the other side

You wait with torches four thousand six hundred…

Come on come and climb in, and say something

The carriage driver is dead, he has blood from crutches*

You wait without witnesses in my island

I have clothes of walnut wood, they are almost a carriage

And whether or not you see things the way I have found them

You know that, in my island, actually they are

The mound is another fresh grave

Stretch out your foot and step, baby!

And this is everything. Departure is tonight.

The phantom carriage waits at the steps.