Rakovina [English translation]

Are heard the voices of the forensic experts

and of the fallen angels,

screaming are the mouths of celebrated old men

from the billboards,

and the spring shuffles cards

for the hunched backs,

and it's hard to breathe

and the red glows.

In that spring the leaves turn yellow

and it's snowing on the flowers.

And the dread walks with a lute

and with a daisy wreath.

That lute lacks the strings

and the faceless monster -

with claws of predator, jaw of fish,

brays from the altar.

The silly fools

are hanging from the gallows.

Today the monarch was murdered,

long live the monarch!

They'd given him a wake

and just moved on.

Today the king was executed,

long live the king!

Like the tones of cowbells

sound the leaflet's pages.

It's possible to achieve an end,

to become a herd of Hamlets.

To be very own gaoler,

that drowns out a lot.

But the lime cannot be scraped off

when it's enclosed by the soul.

It's evening and in the halls are being played

some more premieres.

Like the last year's cherries ripen

and terrier barks,

and again will be birds flying.

Up to the sun! Blind!

That summer walks with a lute

and is grasping for the heartbeat.

The silly fools

are already hanging from the gallows.

Today the monarch was murdered,

long live the monarch!

They'd given him a wake

and just moved on.

Today the king was executed,

long live the king!

It is known whose fault it is.

That playing with skeletons

is called cancer,

and it smells like asters.

Horse runs without the bit,

smoke burns the eyes,

we pretend to play by the rules,

and record skips

skips

skips