This long wait has lengthened your shadow.

Like a bird flying away from the graveyard.

Like the sun leaning down upon the glass of champagne.

Or, like this mere age rolling down from this metal glass.

You know none waits for none

In this ever-suffering world

of rotten blood and bruised melodies.

Bloody glass pieces come flying

at the station;

Comes the noise from the faraway factories—

the fake gossip of two young lovers.

The overhead lines,

The faraway whistle of the train

drives you crazy.

This wait has lengthened your shadow.

You have been standing and waiting for decades

for that train

which has already gone!

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