The dolphin’s belly has been cut by a screw. No one is expecting a shot in the back. There are no weapons at the battery. One must go faster at the curve. But the sail, the sail has been torn. I repent, repent, repent. Even the sentry will not meet a foe. It’s no grief if your leg is in pain. The hinges of doors creak and sing to some. Who are you? You’re not expected here. But the sail, the sail has been torn. I repent, repent, repent. Many years to those who sing in their sleep. All parts of the earth can lie on the bottom. All continents can burn in fire. Only all this does not suit me. But the sail, the sail has been torn. I repent, repent, repent.
© Nathan Mer. Translation, 1991