I saw light on earth,
and I was born too,
to see how you are.
What do you do? How are you coming along?
How do you carry your happiness?
Thank you, you didn’t answer.
I have no time for answers,
barely enough time for questions.
But I like it here —
it’s warm, it’s beautiful,
and there’s so much light
that even the grass grows.
And that girl, look —
she sees into my soul…
No, dear, don’t trouble yourself to love me.
But a black coffee, still,
I’ll drink from your hand.
I like it — you know
how to make it bitter.
