(transl. by Tanya J. Wolfson)

This city is trapped in its lies like a whaler in ice.
It had sunk into hell, and from hell it had partially risen.
In the childhood we shared, all the schoolbooks would dot the same i's,
And today we can speak the same language beyond simple phrasing.
So why do we find just the wrong things to say or conceal?
Why the covetous eyes, and the rushing about in a lather?
You've mistaken me, sir, I'm not hitting you up for a meal.
I just thought you and I had a lot we could say to each other.

This city is stuck between seasons like fish in a net.
All the gauges at zero, the arrows are not even twitching.
We learned how to laugh so it's almost convincing, and yet
Something's wrong with the eyes of the women we once found bewitching.
Shall I tell you a story of lands far away?
Of harsh arctic blizzards, of languorous tropical weather?
You've mistaken me, miss, I'm not hitting you up for a lay.
I just thought you and I had a lot we could say to each other.

I take orders from no-one (including myself, I must say),
I trust only my hand when it's drafting the route to be traveled.
There's someone we'd listen to, but He is looking away.
And we too only mention Him either in vain or when troubled.
Heavens up - earth below, the layout is plain.
What's with terrifed faces turned skyward, when skies never bother?
You've mistaken me, Lord, I'm not hitting You up for a sign.
I just thought You and I had a lot we could say to each other.

       The place of light
       Was once right in front of my eyes.
       But who am I
       To damage the crystalline thread -
       It already shreds.  Time doesn't wait.
       We have lost sight of the place of light...