I think thats it for me. I close my eyes and I still see. I think thats it for me: Im so embarrassed, and besides - I am no match for her! Shes been to Paris. And yesterday Ive learned - not only there. What songs I sang to her of the far-off North! I thought: a little more, and we can talk as equals. But my singing of the No Mans Land was just in vain - She could not care less about what flowers grow there. So then I also sang of - thinking it would touch her more - Of the South, and of the one who shed been with before. But does she care! Shes been to Paris. Marseille Marceau himself had said things to her. I left my factory, although I really had no right, Id studied dictionaries, brave and full of fear, But does she care! Shes already in Warsaw. And now she, again, speaks a foreign language. Shed come - and I will say in Polish: "Prosze, pani, Accept me as I am, I will not sing no more!" But does she care! Shes in Iran - Ive realized - Ill always be the one whos chasing. Because today shes here, and tomorrow - in Oslo - Yes, I have tripped, and Im in trouble! That who had been with her, and that who would be after - Let them try. And Ill just wait.
?. Translation, 2013