Już nie ma dzikich plaż – Irena Santor (Tekst)

The empty beaches of Jurata
The trash bins fast asleep
Only a drunken stranger
Leans on a post to keep

A sheet of crumpled paper
Is carried by the breeze
Today no one will bother
To read what’s in the news

My heart is torn by longing
My soul is gripped by frost
On the radio Mahalia
Sings her sorrowful gospel song

A hotel full of vacancies
A spider guards the desk
Into my bags I slowly
Pack up the days that passed

There are no wild beaches left
Where I once searched for amber
With my dog I’d walk to you
While seagulls carved their patterns in the sky

There are no wild beaches now
Nor that café near the pier
Many faces disappeared
And many lost their youth
Their youth

I board the train returning
And wipe away one tear
People live in loneliness
Whether or not they choose

They face the eyes of autumn
While clouds roll by the shore
The landscape of my hopes
Slips from beneath the wheels

My heart is torn by longing
My soul is gripped by frost
On the radio Natalia
Sings her sorrowful blues

A hotel full of vacancies
A spider guards the desk
Into my bags I slowly
Pack up the days that passed

There are no wild beaches left
Where I once searched for amber
With my dog I’d walk to you
While seagulls carved their patterns in the sky

There are no wild beaches now
Nor that café near the pier
Many faces disappeared
And many lost their youth
Their youth

There are no wild beaches left
No old man selling treasures
And only in the whispering grass
I find that quiet corner once again

There are no wild beaches left
Where I once searched for amber
With my dog I’d walk to you
While seagulls carved their patterns in the sky