On an island, by the cathedral I stood in silence, but could not pray For my prayer has no meaning Now my father has gone away Was he angry at my being Is that why his kind hand has gone? Is he frozen in a distant seaport With the door closed on his little son? Was he poisoned in his trusting When he was a child himself? Is his kind soul slowly rusting Like a horseshoe on a rainy shelf? With a hand burned by snowy railings At the opening of harbour bars And the frightend eyes of children And the low boom of distant war Now my mother sits in darkness And she's lonely as winter earth With a candle on the table Casting shadows on my lonely birth I was lonely by the river On a sunday cold afternoon I walked thru your wounded city And wrote this sad polish song