Buldog - Kamienice

House like a prison
Stone fortress,
People everyday
On the seventh floor
bear hearts.

They are resting
And higher they go,
And they count the steps.
They stand next to window
And to the yard
They look alone:
Trapped bottom
In a stone pipe
Standing tunnel
Straight up,
Tunnel pierced
In the mourning wall.

They brought hearts
They brought hands,
They stand in front of the door;
Heavily out of breath
They read with relief
Well-known name.
And there's a gurgling in chest,
The gurgle of the void.
And in this void
Closed low
Between the walls
Gray ring:
Mundane, rat,
Dark yard.

It's already night in rags
He sits on the roofs,
Dark rags
He decomposes sluggishly.
They burn the matches
They read the pages
Nailed on the door.
Not here yet!
They carry and carry
Bowed necks,
Hands hanging
Hearts pounding
Panting lungs.
They go to the windows,
They look up:
Here's slowly
It's falling from the heavens,
The tunnel closes
Second courtyard.