But when the time comes
The little cafés are brimful
We are attracted by their windows, all starry
Somewhere in the nooks and corners of big cities
Little cafés, little cafés
So little that you merely entered, you lower your voice down to a whisper
Casually, a stone into the water
Something of very important matters falls
Into the black depths of the little coffees
Little cafés, little cafés
Half of the shadow, half of the light
You and me, and our table
Behind the stained-glass window dreams
We hardly learn to know the world, although it's near here.
There are less and less places around us
A cloud is smoking from the windows
And the barman shouts: Hey!
The little café is already setting off for a cruise, a great cruise
Little cafés on, little cafés
Our little table is walking back and forth in the weightlessness of the lamps
The cups – white birds
Are flying straight into the colorful smoke
Are floating in it, disappear in it
The gentleman and the lady are whispering
Who knows about that, where they really are
She with him and he with her
Little cafés, little cafés
They'll even snatch up our little table into heaven