To submerge in the ocean without the bottom And the surface To sink in the sea without the beginning And the end Where the shape and the sens Is only a fiction To see blind colours To hear the words in comparison to which People's tongues are only a mumble And the logic ends with other creations Of defective consciousness You don't have to be a shade longing for light You don't have to be an unmourned grave A night's wilderness A lonely river running a d**h's lane A mournful song on lips of the mads A scretched wound Hide for me the silver of the deepest mirrors Hide the jeveles which nobody found