In my dream - yellow fires And I wheeze in my sleep: Wait a bit, wait a bit, In the morning itíll get better! But in the morning everything is wrong, The joy is gone: Either you smoke on an empty stomach, Or you drink your way out of a a hangover. Hey one yes once again Hey one yes many-many more times In the bars thereís green fabric And white napkins. Paradise for the poor and the jokers, But to me - itís like being a caged bird! In the church it smells and itís gloomy, The old women smoke incense. No! Even in church everything is wrong, Everything is not as it should be. I hurry to the mountain So that something didnít go But on the mountain stands an alder While under the mountain a cherry tree If only there were ivy on the slope Iíd get some joy from it If only anything else Everything is not as it should be Hey one yes once again Hey one yes many-many more times I then go through the field along the river Some light - some dark, thereís no God! While in the pure field of cornflowers Thereís a faraway road Along the road thereís a deep forest With Baba-Yagas While at the end of that road - Chopping blocks and axes. Somewhere the stallions dance in time, Unhurried and swimmingly. Along the road everything is wrong, But all the more in the end. Neither in the church nor in the bars - Nothing is holy! No boys, everything is wrong, Everything is wrong, boys! Hey one yes once again Hey one yes many-many more times
© Peter Struwwel. Translation, ?