chciałabym cię jutro okłamac, żebyś nie wiedział, że przyszła zima

My God leans over me
-Get up- he says, even though it's dark outside.
And dream demands a point
He doesn't know what sleep is, so he hassles me
to brush my teeth, to eat my breakfast
With persuasion's and incentive's strength

My God didn't create the world in one week
Work isn't a great deal
Continuously makes mistakes and swears
Burying in details- looses the thread
Doesn't know where the end is, or the beginning
Sarcastically says, it is my fault.
Still it isn't enough
Abstracted roads
Pervicacious guest.
My God.

Usually helpless rather than resourceful
a single opportunity he won't gamble away
With reason always he is on the tree trunk
However he cannot waive his hand over
Doesn't know how to shrug

Wherever in the world something is cooking
There, like a thorn in hell, He will break in
Never ending rotation in the hospital
Gives up the eternity of a moment
When he leans over someone
Although he has knots in his lower back

On a knock on the door
Whoever He can
Lets in
My God.

Grievance he has, for his celestial Bothers
That he is charged a high price
For his preparedness for penalty and mercy
He admires them enough for their
Almighty-ness, and lack of doubt
and for inhuman ingenuity

He himself has trouble with calculus
He wont estimate chastity for anyone
And he won't collect crops of sins
Tad extravagant, tad late
Always feels in debt
So none brute can double cross him

And each debt
Strikes him down
He- His own enemy
My God.

Not a suprise that sometimes he can't wield
Start drinking, like He lives in shebeen
And in lust gets lost
Look for him in the darkest dens I can find
He runs wild- and I am hungover
Nod head over breakfast
Quiet like embarrassment, like a dash in a sentence
Afraid to bring simple truths to the day light
That outside of our window darkness mooches
That He has to die with me
And despite the fact - he still wants to live with me

Don't pour tears
On the doorstep
I love You,
My God!