"Why do I dream, confused, discordant,
Born from the depths of our times,
The dream about Stockholm, so restless,
So almost unpleasant dream...
Standing on the mountain I like people
About something I wanted to preach I
And saw transparent, quiet water,
The surrounding groves, forests and fields.
"Oh, God, - I cried in alarm, what if
This country is truly the birthplace of me?
Here it is I loved and died here,
In green and Sunny this country?"
And I realized that I was lost forever
In the blind navigation of spaces and times,
And somewhere flowing darling river,
To which I way forever prohibited."