In a house destroyed by incense,
The cold walls breathe incense
Crumble and damp, forgotten mice,
The deceased grandma will look and gasp.

The wind walks, the floorboard creaks,
The souls of the crickets whisper from behind the stove,
A basin, a cast iron pot, burned out candles,
There are familiar faces in the mirror.

And outside the window the lights of Babylon
And the towers stick into the clouds.
People are strangers, people are not ours,
Their speech is clumsy and unfamiliar.

Humpbacked shadows slipped past
And goose bumps ran through my body.
We became unnecessary and insects,
So we will fall on our knees again.