You told me \"I love you for sure!”
But only at night, through gritted teeth.
And in the morning, the bitter \"I endure\"
Was barely held back by your lips.
At night I believed your lips,
Your cunning and passionate hands,
But I didn\'t believe at night
Your blind, nocturnal words.
They, like moths of a flame,
Feared the day and instantly burned out.
With the dawn, every day,
Colder eyes greeted me down.
I knew you, you did not lie,
You wanted, yes, to love me, I now.
And only at night could you lie,
When the body rules over the soul.
But in the morning, in the hour fresh,
When the soul is strong again, as before,
If only once you had said \"yes\"
To me, waiting in hope for amor.
And suddenly war, the green platform,
Where there\'s no room even to embrace,
And the suburban train to Kherson,
In which I have to travel straight to Brest.
Suddenly without hope for the sensual night,
For happiness, for the warmth of the roost
Like a cry: nothing can help right
To test a wet kiss on my greatcoat.
I wouldn\'t confuse them with the those words,
With those in the darkness, in the intoxication,
You suddenly said to me \"I love you most!”
With almost calm lips. That’s sensation!
I had never seen you like this before,
Before these words of parting briefs.
“I love you, I love you... “ The night platform,
Two hands such very cold with grief…
1941