Jan Pietrzak - Nadzieja

In the dirty dawn of sorrowful cities
Full of merciless winds
Your face flashes now and then
Like an uncertain glimpse of spring

In the crowded, crumpled mass at the bus stop
As if someone were joking
A bouquet of white lilacs or
The happiest cards of all

They called you the mother of fools, hope!
Wicked people, small people, hope!
Though they mock you, laugh aloud
You, the only one, never leave us, hope!

Lead us, hope
Through dark times, hope!
In the dark fog, conjure
A spark of faith

When the sound of false fanfares
Fades into the distance like a sail
And a deafening fear fills
The dark corners of the soul

When all that's left is to bang against the wall
With wild passion, it remains
Don't exaggerate, put down the rope
It will never cease to exist

They called you the mother of fools, hope!
Wicked people, small people, hope!
Though they mock you, laugh aloud
You, the only one, never leave us, hope!

Lead us, hope
Through dark times, hope!
In the dark fog, conjure
A spark of faith

Lead us, hope
Through dark times, hope!
In the dark fog, conjure
A spark of faith