Translated by A. Z. Foreman - Lakes lyrics

The lake of ice is lacerated with blanching scratches. Figures merry with winter move on it and freeze Spewed out of somewhere by blind time That burns on and is there. The second lake above, crossed with gashes of light and cloud, Which has been the eternal witness of time and abided with it, Is surprised by a sharp-tipped circling aircraft or some other moon of man, Splitting its waves wide open. The blueblade knives of the ice Will be like flowers in remembrance In which the shades of snow glide down Like silver and like wool. Before melody flickers its last on a lake And the knowable world is pa**ed away.