Český překlad Vladmíra Řepíka

"Do you still see me even here?" (The silver cord lies on the ground.) "And so I'm dead", the young man said over the hill (not a wish away). My friends (as one) all stand aligned although their taxis came too late. There was a rush along the Fulham Road. There was a hush in the Passion Play. Such a sense of glowing in the aftermath ripe with rich attainments all imagined sad misdeeds in disarray the sore thumb screams aloud, echoing out of the Passion Play. All the old familiar choruses come crowding in a different key: Melodies decaying in sweet dissonance. There was a rush along the Fulham Road into the Everpassion Play. And who comes here to wish me well? A sweetlyscented angel fell. She laid her head upon my disbelief and bathed me with her eversmile. And with a howl across the sand I go escorted by a band of gentlemen in leather bound NOONE (but someone to be found). All along the icy wastes there are faces smiling in the gloom. Roll up roll down, Feeling unwound? step into the viewing room. The cameras were all around. We've got you taped you're in the play. Here's your I.D. (Ideal for identifying one and all.) Invest your life in the memory bank ours the interest and we thank you. The icecream lady wet her drawers, to see you in the passion play. take the prize for instant pleasure captain of the cricket team public speaking in all weathers a knighthood from a queen. All your best friends' telephones never cooled from the heat of your hand. There's a line in a frontpage story 13 horses that alsoran. Climb in your old umbrella. Does it have a nasty tear in the dome? But the rain only gets in sometimes and the sun never leaves you alone. Lover of the black and white it's your first night. The Passion Play goes all the way spoils your insight. Tell me how the baby's made how the lady's laid why the old dog howls in sadness. And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony shoulders of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision. (The examining body examined her body.) Actor of the lowhigh Q, let's hear your view. Peek at the lines upon your sleeves since your memory won't do. Tell me how the baby's graded how the lady's faded why the old dogs howl with madness. All of this and some of that's the only way to skin the cat. And now you've lost a skin or two you're for us and we for you. The dressing room is right behind We've got you taped you're in the play. How does it feel to be in the play? How does it feel to play the play? How does it feel to be the play? Man of passion rise again, we won't cross you out for we do love you like a son of that there's no doubt. Tell us is it you who are here for our good cheer? Or are we here for the glory for the story for the gory satisfaction of telling you how absolutely awful you really are? There was a rush along the Fulham Road. There was a hush in the Passion Play.

THE END
We sleep by the everbright hole in the door eat in the corner talk to the floor cheating the spiders who come to say "Please", (politely). They bend at the knees. Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs. Old gentlemen talk of when they were young of ladies lost and erring sons. Lacecovered dandies revel (with friends) pure as the truth tied at both ends. Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs. Scented cathedral spire pointed down. We pray for souls in Kentish Town. A delicate hush the gods floating by wishing us well pie in the sky. God of ages Lord of Time mine is the right to be wrong. Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs. Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed of lovehungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed). Show me a good man. I'll show you the door. The last hymn is sung and the devil cries "More." Well, I'm all for leaving and that being done, I've put in a request to take up my turn in that forsaken paradise that calls itself "Hell" Where noone has nothing and nothing is well meaning fool, pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling. Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do.

Colors
I've none dark or light, red, white or blue. Cold is my touch (freezing). Summoned by name I am the overseer over you. Given this command to watch o'er our miserable sphere. Fallen from grace called on to bring sun or rain. Occasional corn from my oversight grew. Fell with mine angels from a far better place, offering services for the saving of face. Now you're here, you may as well admire all whom living has retired from the benign reconciliation. Legends were born surrounding mysterious lights seen in the sky (flashing). I just lit a fag then took my leave in the blink of an eye. Passionate play join round the maypole in dance (primitive rite) (wrongly). Summoned by name I am the overseer over you.

Flee
the icy Lucifer. Oh he's an awful fellow! What a mistake! I didn't take a feather from his pillow. Here's the everlasting rub: neither am I good or bad. I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had. I'm only breathing. There's life on my ceiling. The flies there are sleeping quietly. Twist my right arm in the dark. I would give two or three for one of those days that never made impressions on the old score. I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree. Everyone's saved we're in the grave. See you there for afternoon tea. Time for awaking the tea lady's making a brewup and baking new bread. Pick me up at half past none there's not a moment to lose. There is the train on which I came. On the platform are my old shoes. Station master rings his bell. Whistles blow and flags wave. A little of what you fancy does you good (Or so it should). I thank everybody for making me welcome. I'd stay but my wings have just dropped off.

Hail!
Son of kings make the everdying sign cross your fingers in the sky for those about to BE. There am I waiting along the sand. Cast your sweet spell upon the land and sea. Magus Perde, take your hand from off the chain. Loose a wish to still the rain the storm about to BE. Here am I (voyager into life). Tough are the soles that tread the knife's edge. Break the circle stretch the line call upon the devil. Bring the gods the gods' own fire. In the conflict revel. The passengers upon the ferry crossing waiting to be born renew the pledge of life's long song rise to the reveille horn. Animals queueing at the gate that stands upon the shore breathe the everburning fire that guards the everdoor. Man son of man buy the flame of everlife (yours to breathe and breath the pain of living): living BE! Here am I! Roll the stone away from the dark into everday. There was a rush along the Fulham Road into the Everpassion Play.