In a muddy lake surrounded by mountains,
I live with two, three millions familiar fish.
Old men who heard of the sea are long dead.
Rocks are motionless, we have adjusted.
We are bored in the morning,
we are bored in the afternoon,
until a guest comes and drops a stone.
Excitement leaves us breathless, we slap about,
we spring up and fall down grasping the air,
we start dancing, braided, twisted, bonded,
spiral, cylindrical, oval.
And we are bored in the evening,
we are bored at night…
A day comes, we wait for a guest.
Translated by Paweł Sakowski
EN 
MK