Skozi okno sva vrgla
surove postelje besed
in v sobah je bedela tišina.

Prehodil sem drevorede
in zaspal v objemu toplega dežja.

Grem dlje od teh in tistih korakov.

Ognjeno rdeč je javor
in krokar se v nevihti
s težavo oklepa veje.

Lahko bi bil Kristus,
krvaveč v zeleno očetovih travnikov.

Jacquline is my sweet mistake and I

always love her true,

but she runs away through the streets

and screams; »Darling, I love you too«.

My Jacq puts on a carneval

In my ten times ten large room,

And she smiles as an orphan child,

As we gaze at her naked truth.

Jacquline comes to town in spring

When violets rage in growth,

But then she quickly disappears

As her wildest winds whithdraw.

Before you laugh and before you cry

Even before you marry and before you die

Before you cook and before you burn

Before you wonder and before you yearn,

way before you succeed and way before you

firstly steal;

-a heart

-a kiss

-a burning touch,

Way before you try to lunch,

That supper that was not yours to host,

Or drink that vine withouth a proper toast.

Way before just try to say outloud;

»I really know why is it all about!«