Winter is coming soon.
I don't know how to keep you warm, Dad
Where can I find a blanket to warm the earth?
Is it a bonfire, or a flock of pigeons sacrificed to the gods?
To warm up your lonely death
Dad, you're a myth I once read about you,
As if you lived with you every day in the morning
They drank coffee nectar, a cigarette stream of incense
I, as an immortal, thought: there is only the Beginning
Dad, there's also a legend that we're all going to die.
Let's lie down with you in the same world womb.
The soul will finally shed its striped robe,
We will go around our native places together with you.
Together with you we will go to the coffee river,
Together we will recognize our own by tobacco smoke
Dad, trust me, I'll beg from the cherubs.
A fishing rod to fit comfortably in your hand