Ach, is síte!
i mjúsiç in i flúars i ood bighns þurhijdn.
Amgon er, sibh we i amgon er in dwame.
fijur, is culure jin, 'sgarinit tebhi hót afór i nicht.
It i murcnis, 'sbóne furi masc tesí ben.
'sis i gréfeit?
i bhódís þit a brúane bhuics brédnit anen.
Geje smurtng in spíarin in i murcnis.
i swifnis i sódjursr rininwe.
i fluit ei gtars þurgrítn weit.
nócnsíe çlés i wéns werin it i murcnis.
amflín wío, weit a wí bhaçe.
i bríds déch i lasís quhijt clésr flitn weit.
we a wabh;
s'birlin in, sątje. | oh, this city!
The old buildings cover the music and the flowers.
I cross, like I cross a dream.
Fire, this colourful one, it makes it hot before the night.
At the darkness, it is beautiful to see through the masks
Is this it's wealth?
The people who resemble a goblin book are beautiful
Go smiling and asking in the darkness.
The soldiers run with speed.
They cry with the flute of the guitars.
The children wear invisible clothes at the darkness.
I fly well, with a little bat.
The girl's clothes move with the bread's dough.
With a web.
It turns and, disapear! |