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Over your head
There’s no dear heaven for a long time,
And there’s around you like a wall
Dead forest of factory smoke-stacks.

You’ll carelessly wrap up
Your dusty grey coat.
On the ruins wind wafts
Hardly audible child’s cry.

Tale of wanderings, mournful calling
It sounds beckoning into the distance.
Tale of wanderings, song of roamings
For you, for me.

Relentlessly and slowly
The plague follows you,
Its shadow lies like a shawl
On the roads and houses.

But you believe, spring beam
Will meet you somewhere too,
And you’ll see the sun again
Amid radioactive clouds.

Tale of wanderings, mournful calling
It sounds beckoning into the distance.
Tale of wanderings, song of roamings
For you, for me.

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