Zbigniew Wodecki - Hop, szklankę piwa

On a black rock, falling down to the sea,
my castle stands
It's entwined with a gallery of white marble lace
(of white marble lace?)
(of white marble lace?)

I'd really like to write something
(what? what? what? what?)
What's tinkling like a distant gong
(gong, gong, gong)
What's tinkling like a distant gong of a shrine
(when? when? when?)
When the evening almond sky
copes its dome over the town