Jacek Skubikowski - Dobre miejsce dla naiwnych

You'll probably get up as usual,
It will be five, half-past seven, or not at all.
Teeth will jump at the bread,
And the mouth will undertake the struggle again.
Just one more sip,
The doorknob will give a hand, and it's time to go on.
Where to? You don't remember,
But the brain knows it well.

The alarm clock howled like a mad dog
In the middle of the night, when once again it was close.
The boat was already rowing upstream,
You were discovering the dark land, or maybe two.
But it has happened many times before,
It hasn't changed for a week.
Only the hole in the pants
Peeks into the pocket from time to time.

Heaven – it's a good place for the naive
But they aren't here, it swept everyone away to the bottom.
Heaven – it's a good place for the naive
But they aren't here, not this address or time.

Night practices a cat-like walk
Throwing a gray sack over the heads.
The pale moon distorts its face
Every evening it dreams of a new moon.
Mondays and Sundays,
Saturday, Friday, Wednesday, Tuesday,
Days, weeks churn,
Twisting a thick hemp rope.

Heaven – it's a good place for the naive
But they aren't here, it swept everyone away to the bottom.
Heaven – it's a good place for the naive
But they aren't here, not this address or time.