Она была в Париже [Ona byla v Parizhe] [English translation]

I think that's it for me. I close my eyes and I still see.

I think that's it for me: I'm so embarrassed, and besides --

I am no match for her! She's been to Paris.

And yesterday I learnt -- not only there.

What songs I sang to her of the far-off North!

I thought: a little more, and we can talk as equals.

But my singing of the No Man's Land was just in vain -

She could not care less about what flowers grow there.

So then I also sang of -- thinking it would touch her more -

the South, and of the one who she'd been with before.

But does she care! She's been to Paris.

Marcel Marceau himself had said things to her.

I left my factory, although I really had no right,

I'd studied dictionaries, brave and full of fear,

But does she care! She's already in Warsaw.

And now she, again, speaks a foreign language.

She'd come -- and I will say in Polish: "Proszę pani,

Accept me as I am, I will not sing no more!"

But does she care! She's in Iran -

I've realized -- I'll always be the one who's chasing.

Because today she's here, and tomorrow -- in Oslo -

Yes, I have tripped, and I'm in trouble!

That who had been with her, and that who would be after --

Let them try. And I'll just wait.