Rokita
Hear me now! Silently I am tearing the welkin
And in darkness I last, in a fright, against skies!
Nameless god - he had carven streams of light in my spirit.
Other god had me banished. And I fell on my back.
Like a resin I flow into wilderness' magic,
Squandering all my powers in the moonlight up high.
'Tis my dream and my strife: moonlit rye and the whirlwinds!
And that wild wicked hatred decorating the night.
So the endless fields whisper... And I - lover of soil -
I turn into white mist - just a scent without shape.
I do not ask for more, since the morning shall triumph
And uproot my desires with the Sun's godly shade.
Here and yonder, all breathless and all faint I shall perish,
Into nothing I'll go, lightless void, cold and vast.
Hear me now! Feel the power of my profane existence!
Against skies, like a hero, selfishly I still last!
13th of July 2004