There are salts in the veins and animals in the road I'm going to Klaipeda
Six hours away still
This night pushes the belt deeply into your neck, if it's still night
wait a bit, wait more
We still have the last meters of road left
In the morning we reach the much-seen square in the center of your stony town
an old dog's snout coaxes the girl to the post by the leash
Is this love?

Eight days and nine nights
a week has passed
perhaps even more
What do I say this work
I do is
I swirl in the clouds, maybe
wait a little, wait more
gray frosts drink up the roads
listen to the time, you wait
I still have some land to cover
With a seller of magic rings
I speak in a broken tongue
How do shadows appear when the walker
himself doesn't exist?
Is this love?