The factory is still silent,
bleak in the moonlight.
I thought I was used to
the shiver of early morning!
With my thermos of coffee
in my jacket,
my freezing hand
in my trouser pocket,
I wandered half-asleep
to the six a.m. train,
thinking I was self-sufficient,
proof against all sadness.
But now the warm aroma
from the bakeries
touches my heart like a caress,
and makes it impossible to be calm.