Kazik na Żywo - W południe

The sun rocks the earth.
It wiped Clouds from the sky,
It seems like it can be heard as in silence
The grain is spilling from the ears

Farmgirls’ white calves are showing
in the tucked-up skirts
The earth bursts with hope
High-noon-spirit is born.

Birds are dozing in her braids
When filled with sun and soil
Like God’s will
Wanders its own ways.

Nobody will find out.
Where is she going, where did she come from?
Whose tough existence
She is bearing on her milkmaid's yoke.

She is going farther, still farther
She will rest somewhere for the moment
Gammer is burning a candle over there
It is Peasant’s death there

Birds are napping in her braids
When filled with sun and soil
Like God’s will
Wanders its own ways.

She will come for me when it's summer
I don’t know in how many years
She will come, she will stand by the hut
And tell you it is your time.

I will give away my land to children
I will yet do God knows what
And on an aromatic Sunday
I will go following High-noon-spirit