Charles Bukowski - The word (from "Bone Palace Ballet") [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

the word has no legs or eyes,
has no mouth, has no arms,
has no intestines and
often no heart, or very
little.

you can't ask the words to
light a cigarette
although it will help you
enjoy your wine.

and you can't force the word
to do anything it doesn't
want to do.
you can't overwork it.
and you can't awaken it
when it decides to
sleep.

the word will treat you well
at times,
depending upon what you
ask it to
do.
other times, it will treat
you badly
no matter what you ask
it to
do.

the word comes and
goes.
sometimes you must
wait a very long time
for it.
sometimes it never
comes back.

sometimes writers
kill themselves
when the word
leaves.
other writers will
pretend that it is still
there
even though the word
is dead and
buried.

many famous writers
do this.
and many less-famous
who
call themselves
writers.

the word is not for
everybody.
and for most,
it's there
just for a very short
time.

the word is one of
the most
powerful miracles
in
existence,
it can enlighten or
destroy
minds,
nations,
cultures.

the word is dangerous
and beautiful.

if it arrives for you,
you will know
it
and you will be the
luckiest of
humans.
nothing else will
matter and
everything else will
matter.

you will be the
center of the
sun,
you will be laughing
through the
centuries,
you will have
it,
your fingers
your guts
will have
it,
you will be,
for as long as it
lasts,
a god-damn
writer
doing the possible
impossible,
getting it down,
getting it down,
getting it
down.