Translated by A. Z. Foreman - Over-understanding lyrics

Now the nights are hard and falling hard. Booming days again are flowing through me, A dismal human deluge from the world. Vacant all these faces, vacant the hour: Life is leaking through the sieve of earth While the clay of the slow cityscape Is remolded by full-handed years. I am sorry for the little acts- Love, the labors and the tweets of birds- Which moments all dissolve into themselves. Time goes on to k** us round the clock, And, my friend, despite how things appear From the constant neural imagings You are now no longer that same you Who stood up before the fall of evening At the very exit of the day, Or who ran a gauntlet through the thorns In the jungle-growth of dream at midnight. All existence is its own perdition Which destroys itself to keep on running. This our life is the fire-fueling fabric Of reality, or just the fire. So the white bed loses its allure, And the nights are hard and falling hard: Falling, whispering "to live is to die"