Now that we are free, the danger is here
A journey began from the destination
We have knocked on an open door, but to welcome ourselves
To a city we are yet to arrive at.
At first the rhythm of the jungle drums
droned the monotonous wailings of the piano and concerto.
The drums spoke to our ears and moved our feet:
Mendacious saints heralding the first birth of Tragedy!
Piano Concerto
Now that we are free, our hands are locked
But wait! It's more dangerous than we thought
The drummers are long gone, the dancers are unstoppable
The rhythm is mystic, the steps are tragic
A bridge built to nowhere - the insignia of our freedom
Two boxers fighting in a dark room, our eyes are yawning
The incalculable pettiness of instincts
The blasphemy of a divinity.
It's twilight on creation day, but when will our morning begin?
We are at the crossroad of reason, our journey is grotesque
The stage is set, no one is watching
A theatre of the absurd, every person is an actor.
I still can still hear the painful laughter of our children in the creeks
Our spears are sharpened, pointed at our own hearts
The day is fast gone, our souls are far spent
Drunk with the rhythm of our feet, we urge the drums on.
The familiar rhythm of the piano sounds so close now
But I am still trapped in this sorrowful joy
The drums are now wailing, the dancers' feet are drunk
Now that we are free, who will unchain our hands?
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