Wax was dripping on my fingers with white.
Thoughts were confused, hours were dragging on.
Wax was dripping and I was looking at
the last dreams flowing away...
With a thread of rain, with drops of darkness
I melted away. And the sweet scent of winter
was running down my cheeks, almost in silence...
When it was all over, he was the only one
who remained inside me,
for so long, so quiet,
so quiet.
There,
behind the white wall,
no one will come,
it will be dark out there.
The rains will not pour,
it will not snow,
me being left
in my silence.
They will cover my shoulders with white,
they will cover mirrors with a blanket.
There will be fine silk, there will be flowers and speeches -
the kindest words.
There are only words, not even addressed to me.
And I am hardly alive, I'm almost in silence.
And it is so cold, there's dew on my fingers,
And the only thing I feel is
that night is opening the eyes,
for so long, so quiet,
so quiet...
There, behind the white wall,
no one will come, it will be dark out there.
The rains will not pour, it will not snow,
me being left in my silence.
I'd like to take and hold your hands in mine,
to go to bed, to fall asleep and to sleep well.
I'd like to pour myself down to the roofs with rain,
to howl like wind - then you will hear me.
There, behind the white wall,
no one will come, it will be dark out there.
The rains will not pour, it will not snow,
me being left in my silence.