We don't know how to say good-bye
We wander on, shoulder by shoulder.
Already the sun is going down.
You're moody, I am your shadow.
Let's step inside a church and watch
baptisms, marriages, masses for the dead.
Why are we different from the rest?
Outdoors again, each of us turns his head.
Or else, let's sit in the graveyard
On the trampled snow, sighing to each other.
That stick in your hand is tracing mansions
In which we shall always be together.
We don't know how to say good-bye, do we? We think it hard to go up to someone we don't know and say hello, we agonize and blush in embarrassment and stutter before we actually make a move. So why is it so hard to say good-bye to someone we have grown to know, perhaps to love for a while? They are not a stranger, we should know how to respect someone we have loved enough to say what needs to be said and say go with God.
My version of translation: We don’t know how to say good bye We wander close, shoulder to shoulder The sky is dark, there is no light I’m silent, you think something over We go into the church and see The baptisms, funerals and weddings Just as them all we cannot be We leave not looking where we’re heading We sit at cemetery on snow Take little breaths as light as feather You’ll take a stick and you will draw The places where we’ll be together