Trzeci wymiar - Zapomnij o tym

When I look into their pupils, I can see my own reflection
Memories which gleam [and] make eyes teary even today
A tiny room and me, praying for silence
which was the closest thing to me, closer than she and he,
closer than the house where I grew up
Lack of money and alcohol destroy; simple
Someone told me, ‘Describe it’, so I am describing
You don’t believe, then ask my sister; she knows too
She also remembers the panelling, red colour on it
She’s surely waiting till today for someone to cut quarrels out
I ran away many times from there; believe me, I know this
I know what a child feels; it thinks, ‘To run’, ‘cause the only thought is to escape
I remember late afternoon, the fourth floor,
the higher, the sadder, the stairs, the lock, the kitchen
When I was walking like this, warily, looking [here: checking] if alcohol stinks
I know how it hurts and how it swells
The Only God knows what those quarrels were about
Today, I’m not angry with them, but I know one thing for sure
That house wasn’t Eden; how many people like me [are there], I don’t know,
I’m not searching; but, as a child, I didn’t see a human in them; know this

Chorus:
And now sleep, now sleep, and forget the things
which you have seen, heard, experienced, and
think that it was a dream, that it didn’t happen at all
It’ll be better that way
Sleep

The second floor in a German tenement house, the beauty of silence [is] disrupted
Someone screams; it’s the neighbours from the floor
Though I was young, I remember the number of the door: seven
There, a night like this wasn’t the only one… But [let’s get] to the root
I was sleeping, being cradled by my mum, until I heard
vain various quarrels, which I didn’t understand
Were they hallucinations? Jumping up from dream,
I gazed with my sleepy eyes at the talking walls
I heard the voice of a woman; a haughty guy was shouting constantly; he was nervous
A childlike cry, inarticulate, though [it is] so important to thousands
of parents, it was needless here, unlike spirit and guests
I, wrapped in bedclothes, was thinking:
A completely innocent child; what were those tears shed for?
Question after question: it could be me!
My place [was like] Arcadia; there, the party goes on; the crash of glass,
chairs being broken; I heard how he was begging but no one stopped
In the morning, I saw him under the gate, with scratched face
He was sitting on a ball; I remember, he had bruises on his hands
I recall a boy; the flat where he lived is unoccupied

Chorus:
And now sleep, now sleep, and forget the things
which you have seen, heard, experienced, and
think that it was a dream, that it didn’t happen at all
It’ll be better that way
Sleep

Black vapours above the city, like a dark host, were announcing tempests
[There was] still me, gazing at the dance of leaves in the wind for a longer time
A boy in tearing sweater took my eyes off [the leaves]
He wanted to hide from the rain
and the light of a lantern was shining right above him
Make a guess where the first drops fell from
I saw wet cheeks in bruises, salty icicles (sic) on them,
fear and sorrow drowned in tears
I was to ask him why he was standing like an outcast under a tree at night
But I guess I lacked courage, I don’t know
I kept on sitting in a car, as silent as a thief,
and was looking behind the window at a live/vibrant image,
at a defenceless child and no one to guard him,
at his dirty hands and clothes, at innocent tearful eyelids
He had flushes in spite of cold, [and] cheeks sunken due to hunger
Why isn’t he coming home? What do you think?

Chorus:
And now sleep, now sleep, and forget the things
which you have seen, heard, experienced, and
think that it was a dream, that it didn’t happen at all
It’ll be better that way
Sleep