NEW SONG OF THE MOTHERLAND (BG)

Is it well if young man is unmarried?
He pined thirty years, shook up his head – 
And came out in the field, put cotton wool in his ears,
So that the greedy girl's howl might not load.
But at night in the field the deafness as in the grave:
Relics and rust, and creak of crow's wings;
Well, you long languished – eagle-owl said to him –
Maids all in London, and here their trail gone cold.

God lived on the icon – jumped out in the window,
Golden dirt swept up His trace. 
My joy kept her from the black chervonets –
But from itself not preserved.

Exclaim, women; come flying, children –
If you need to drink – here's a heart with a hammer.
There is no other such Homeland in the world,
Everybody would have dreamed so, but their gut is thin.   
Well, over White Lake the clouds so are whirling,
Either this is someone smokes, or it is simply so;
And from my tear songs so are pouring –
Pouring and pouring, all won't pour out any way.

God lived on the icon – jumped out in the window,
Golden dirt swept up His trace. 
My joy kept her from the black chervonets –
But from itself not preserved.

Chief of Cemetery, Sisters of Long Life,
Three Brothers of Razor and Driver of a Horse –
Accept the gift of my song about Fatherland
And, spare Her,
And all of us,
And me.





"4D"
Альбом "Aerostatics In The Company Of Sphinxes"
Альбомы Б.Г.
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