The old story: Berlin
I told Berlin yesterday
When the snow dances in anxiety
When accompany trees left by the leaves of longing
The birds then sing a sad song
When I say your name softly
The wind, grumbley
Berlin tired hear my story
The story; old,
In a foreign world
We give up, ended
Because distance makes you tired
Even Britzer Garten knows
Our distance really kills, we falls
I live in agony
And you look alive desperately
The story I remember faintly
Then killed by time slowly