Paradox

Don't stand, sit down, be quiet, I feel
Breathing the weary truth, I don't sleep at night
I look at the moon, there behind the murky glass
I search for my star I don't sleep at night
Just staring into the darkness like at a window
But into another world that never happens again and again
Do I not sleep at night?

I waste my poems, every verse, unfinished lines
Every stanza like a step in the dark
An attempt not to be silent, not to let go
Another broken story in fate

I love the night for its silence and stillness
For the mystery it keeps
For someone who is unlucky in the game will be lucky in love
And I have been too lucky for the game to take revenge on me for it
I love the night for the fact that I can be myself when words are not noise
But whispers of other boundaries
Should I tell?
Is it necessary?

I don't throw words to the wind for I am not a nightingale
Not a singing song to scatter praise
I won't sing praises
Empty serenades or believe in fairy tales
I am not one who shies away or lives in delight from words
Flattering words don't reach the ears
When the city falls asleep I'll let everything go with the wind
Such is the paradox

What are you silent about?
You ask point blank about him
Who else could it be?
For he's a stranger, not mine and inside