Tick tock.. tick tock.. you spin as if drunk,To many eyes you seem a dead clock.
You strike with two hands, like soldiers with bows,With a beautiful face, and a single cheek…
The hours, the years that flow through my body,The ticking, sweet, endless music, …
Engine of life, nourishment of feeling, blossomings,That carries pain, trembling and joys…
Saddened, in appearance, small, it beats slowly,The gate closed, silent with longing, wordless…
Little clock, clock of the body, clock - my heart,Beating in Sweden, measuring the longing for my Kosovo…
Here night, pain, but you gift me dawns…
