How the world turns,
Like a great disc of music,
Strange that it does not shatter
In this day’s frost.

How the wind blows cold
Through eyes and hearts,
It has perished and stripped us bare,
Eyes without blood and blood without dreams.

But a day of repentance will come,
The world will know its sin,
And like a bad disc of music,
It will shatter.

The world will rise again
From the ruins like a phoenix
So let that morning come,
When we will shatter.

1989


Translated: John Hodgson

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