De Engelse vertaling:

In a suffocating, spiritual desert I have seen them wander
Struck by the soul-plague, listless, with anger in their gazes
It is as if sorrow would never leave their eyes
As if the mind had been blackened forever

Compressed into small spaces
Layer upon layer (in gray dwellings) in the stronghold of angst
Below the ground they hurry - hunting, searching; finding nothing
Why don’t they ever stop going?

Before you find your peaceful hideouts
In murmuring groves even you are forced to rest
Not a calm wondering – a furious question:
Why don’t you ever stop going?

Endlessly enlightened – forever wrapped in darkness
No stars do I see shining here
What bards would write in this fog?
What painters would colour their works here?
Endlessly enlightened – forever wrapped in darkness
No stars do I see shining here
What painters would colour their works here?