Στα Λιμάνια Ανάψανε Φωτιές [Sta Limania Anapsane Foties] [English translation]

Tell me what you ask

at the stations you loved

whatever they tell you

the compasses always shows the north.

If you won't be tricked

from the footprints you left,

you won't be redeemed

if you come around the dens of your wound.

The thick smoke of the train lines

shows you your yesterday, want it or not.

In the ports, the lighthouses bursts

light fires, oh, please don't cry.

If you get lost again

at your heart's neighborhood.

Somewhere nearby

drunken waits a shadow.

My sweet balm

I'll be by your side

like a map who thirsts

for the ink of your course to drink.

The thick smoke of the train lines

shows you your yesterday, want it or not.

In the ports, the lighthouses bursts

light fires, oh, please don't cry.