cingulomania (translation)

five

People love the night, as only then they are alone.

But I was alone anyway, so that was not the motive for me.

I would love the night because I would see myself in it.

Quiet, obscure, lonely.
Another me, just much bigger.

As I observe the drops hit the window, I can feel it.
My tears will not stop in my heart anymore.
The rain falls as if it knows how I feel.

"For whom does it rain for?" I think to myself.
It rains for me.

The seventh day the world cries for me.