We stare into each other’s eyes,
like jackdaws, like ravens.
A crowd may open up and swallow us,
in an instant,
an instant.

But I don’t have the right
to interfere,
to interfere.
I don’t have the right
to interfere,
to interfere.

In the future, we will change our numbers
and lose contact.
In the future, leaves will turn brown
when we want them.

And I don’t have the right
to interfere,
to interfere.
I don’t have the right
to interfere,
to interfere.
I don’t have the right
to interfere,
to interfere.