Den Himmelska Fridens Torg [English translation]

Like all children I read stories and I loved those from China.

I thought they were so exotic and erotic.

They evoked a picture of beauty, they conveyed smells and tastes,

and the names of the people and places there were so beautiful.

But the lovliest name of all

was Tiananmen Square.

So I read about China's history, about the emperors and dynasties,

about the thinkers, and philosophers and despots.

And I was dazzled by their knowledge, their striving for elegance

like when other cultures bowed, they could emerge.

and the symbol of that elegance

was Tiananmen Square.

But progress was built on slavery, because the majority lived in poverty.

Only the few got cultured and well-mannered.

The Mighty War was born between the lords and their slaves,

and at the head of the masses there was a son of a farmer.

And he swore that one day victory would

reach Tiananmen Square.

And the Sun rose up over China, The New Time was there,

and those who were used to submitting could teach themselves.

Because no one was more than any other, and everyone was for each other,

and the people and leaders spoke about the same future

when they annually celebrated the victory

of Tiananmen Square.

But the times changed, soon they were back to the old times

Because those older leaders distanced themselves from the people.

But the young ones, who learned to think and talk and read and write,

went out, as they had learned, and reminded about all the promises.

But the promises were drowned in blood

on Tiananmen Square.

I sit and turn the pages of the stories which I read when life was simple,

Then princesses were beautiful and kings were wise and good.

And I look up at the stars in the east, and I discover they have gone out.

I understand so well, there is nothing more to shine upon.

Because there exists an icy darkness

on Tiananmen Square.

• Artist:Björn Afzelius
• Album:Tusen Bitar (1990)