These are the ravages of time
Like the engine sound of heavy trucks,
Like the beating of steel upon the anvil,
Like a heart of stone in darkest night,
Like the breaking of a window pane.
More crushing than a music's fair
There is nothing else,
There is nothing else than rattling tracks,
Than mortal whisper in the marsh,
Than frozen waves on winter seas,
Than announcement on the radio
Telling lies about a victory.
These are the ravages of time
Like the breathing of a hurricane,
Like the dreadful shouts of the insane,
Like the scraping of your fingernails,
Like the grumbling of a mass that hails.
More growling than the voice of peace
There is nothing else,
There isn nothing else than rumbling mist,
Than branches in nocturnal skies,
Than fissures in the power station,
Than giants from the scriptural age
Bawling within ecstasy.
Sometimes you listen to the squealing of boat paths,
To the revelation of lies, to the assembly of dust,
To the endless grey plane, to the stiffen of time.
To the stiffen of time. To the stiffen of time.