Death in an autumnal park in Paris Go to heaven from hoarfrosty land Call to your mind last leave-taking caress Send the letters, until send you can You need some nocturnal hours White is paper, letter-line is black Broken streets and house and flowers On that address you go never back Noone does not open your sad letters Silent tone sounds from the telephone You took vengeance - upon these ones betters You fulfilled the mission - you are noone To drink wine in candle-light and To commemorate yourself with tears Spend in lux–hotel last night and Take from trunk the pistol, now and here Death in an autumnal park in Paris... But foreign city lights here Radiate and radiate still then, When you so depart like nightmare In the city of Paris - the end