Gust-bitten by wild winds
Tearing at their moorings
Their hulls gray with time
Dead boats
...
My song is about blades of grass beheaded
New from Krakow’s far away voivods
Like starlings on the live furrows
Checking in to live here on labor
...
Are they expecting us
And when they know we’re on our way
Will they wait on the doorstep
And be thrilled
...
Jour trempé d’heures mouillées
Soir brillant de diamants noirs
Dans un sommeil d’autre monde
Le ciel en haillons fleur de gris
...