Lonely bird, you're going to fly high
in the anthracite sky of moonless nights,
plunging into confusion tramps and dogs
with your beauty and your winged shoulders' stroke
You have neither nestlings, nor nest.
You are lured by a star, invisible to the world.
And in your eyes there's an unearthly grief.
You're a strong bird, but I pity you.
Lonely bird you're flying high
and only a madman was able to fall in love like that
rising high in your trail,
rising high in your trail
so as to break together with you
with you together
with you together
with you together
with you together
Black angle of grief, let's take a rest,
sitting on the branches, keeping silence in quiet.
What is there in the sky that is worth it
for me or for you to crash down on the stones.