That seagull, which freely glides high up
When waves glitter and dawn breaks
Youth is in its chest and its flight is wide
The Sun makes its wings shine
The Sun makes its wings shine
But a thud is heard, there's no seagull anymore
It falls moaning among the reeds
A strange man wounded its chest easily
And forgot his wounded victim
Once life is like a white seagull
It, too, dreamt on the shore by quiet waters
Why does one have to get disappointed, why does the flight end,
Of what human has believed of their happiness
Of what human has believed of their happiness