Przypadek Hermana Rotha [English translation]

I like the power of black,

and non-use words.

Of everything what's permanent,

in nothingness behind the window, when mists weak up.

I like old people,

cause senility is like a mist.

Looking directly at its emptiness,

the more I desire it, the older I am.

You, he and I.

The middle is like it was made of glass,

i won't forget these days

I was looking for you in the pane's reflections.

I'm drowning in the compassion,

deeper with every day.

Thought I know, that you won't come back,

My life is still yanked by uncertainty and noise.

You, he and I.

The middle is like it was made of glass,

I won't forget these days

and I'm looking for you...

Because I still know so little,

So little still is me

in all these things...