I wander through Brussels, drunk
Not by a vodka, but by a girl
I buy mimosas and tulips,
Like mad. Everywhere —

On these lengthy streets,
On these endless boulevards
I am looking for some home,
Some window and a guitar.

The window is very narrow
But reaches the clouds dim,
Is full of light and a guitar
That tangles us with its strings;

I wrap the girl with them
And cling to her as if on the snow
And we start wander together
Far, far and high above.

The days are full of snow,
Nights are full of June, ripe
I lay my head on her knees
But bad times don’t go by,

Even if I embrace her tightly,
Touch her with the softest kiss,
Even if all my kisses will fly
And buzz like myriad of bees.

‘Cause I still don’t have enough,
‘Cause I regret some hazy things,
‘Cause this girl always flows
Through my hands like a spring.

And only scar on my hands,
On my hair, hips, here and there
And a scent, that surrounds,
A scent of water plant and lavender.

So what, that there’s a night,
A scent? Winter is around, keen.
The girl is a water flow.
How can I stop a spring?


[© English translation 2010-2020, Mikołaj Gałczyński]