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