There was no room for me
anymore, in this country
I was a threat

to power, fought for
by the priests and the king
against the priests, I was there

I watched it and I knew
the foreign workers wanted to leave
and the slaves were discontented

They gladly came to my temple
they believed in the Creatorgod
and sought their leader in me

Together we might have
a future, the freedom
to follow our belief, to convert

our hope into deeds
and then, just to see
what comes of it

Mealy-mouthed, the words send
you out of your house
out of your expectations
into the bush of hope
the white powder

that sticks to you
but is fading more and more
with your own bones and flesh
as the only support
for your thoughts

your Midgard, middle yard
of known regions, surrounded
by the endless of mountains
a jungle in the south
and the ocean in the west

where the serpent rules, the monster
the mealy mouth speaks of
to save you from its jaws
opened wide to devour
if you are afraid

Sometimes my hope
for peace on earth is brewing
Then I fear a fire or worse
rotting and the uncertainty
what will grow from it

Then today's life is everything
the only thing that matters
though it is difficult for me
to be unpretentious
in being grateful

for my opportunities
to help those in need
the duty which I do
humbly in the black
armour of my faith

The people who are not chosen
for the afterlife have a hard time
There is no mercy
that can ease their lives
no love that brings hope

In sanding sand, we stare at the sea
we dream dreams and hope hope
we wish wishes and we listen
to the wind, the dancing wind
dancing a dancing dance for us
the dancing wind, dancing wind

Today is today today
we dream dreams and hope hope
we wish happiness after happiness upon happiness
and we desire what today, today
must be the day, today today
mercilessly today's day

that laughs his ugly face in my face
and pushes us with pushing pushes away
our dreams and wishes and best intentions
our desire to dance in the wind
dancing a dancing dance for us
the dancing wind, dancing wind

Hope would be the worst
that slow poison that constantly torments
because it keeps you alive

Also the hell of the rest, unleashed
by the cleaners to whom I gave the keys
takes too long for me

Emotions are haunting around me
I run to the door
but the room stretches out

A man shouts: What do you want?
Laughing he blows away
Others start to whisper yellowish

I do need skates right now
I empty all the cupboards, heated
under the burning sun

so I have to undress
and know what I want
where I am

Between ruins, man sings
out hope that rebuilds houses
a song that survives

when the fury has raged again
how thin like hot steaming souls
above the dung heap the voices

may sound between the hills
of toil, elsewhere modest
in holy places with undertones

of severity of rock-solid
brethren in the fury of desires
which drags freedom away

and smears it with blood
and tears or beats it to death
in its chains

Between the hard facts I look
for a passage
The sun blinds me
delivers me to the wind

Come, sweet fay of the sea
around misty Avalon, come
then I will be fine
which I never doubt

except at night
when I would like to rest
and sweat fears, tired, so tired
but too vigorous to give up

so I put on nice clothes
to go out and celebrate
to reinvent myself
and connect with the world