My Little Song (II)

For the country dear where but a crumb of bread Up from the ground with reverence we heave, Adoring thus the Boon by Heaven spread… O Lord I grieve...

And for the land where storks nests to destroy As a serious misdeed we do perceive, For they provide us all with mirth and joy… O Lord I grieve...

And for the country where each greeting nod Is dear to Him in whom we do believe, For meeting friends we say: “Praise be to God”… O Lord I grieve...

But there is also something else I miss, That’s something different, equally naive; Though I have no idea where that is... O Lord I grieve...

And for the griefless time of thoughtlessness, For those who never fancy to deceive, And take each no for no and yes for yes... O Lord I grieve...

And now who cares for me and for my woe That even time so long may not relieve? Not for my friendship, but it must be so... O Lord I grieve...

Moja piosnka II