(Translation from Russian)
THE SKY IS THE COLOR OF THE RAIN (B.G.)

Long we sang about the Light, and ourselves went by the dusk
Not noticing at the jabber
As the wind played the glass strings
Joining our souls with the ground

We walked far away, walked for the high secrets
Walked because otherwise it is impossible
And guarding the house fell silent and melted away
One after another melted away, melted away, melted away
In the sky of the color of the rain

Fingers of October saints is as before caressing
Only their faces becomes not discern 
This is all I – apparently has not coped with paints
Or again forgot the words, when wanted to sing  

Nothing, soon January will crack behind a fence
With his icy drink teding and teasing
If only me to stand fast. But I see – I'm falling
Falling, falling, falling, falling
Into the sky of the color of the rain

And still they say that they were with wings
And they had the eyes – living water
But mellow words again smell of dust
And lead us again and again won't say where

And in the sky there is a limpid silence, and all is clearer of clear
There is no time, and so we don't wait more 
And into the blue the heart rises by a hawk
To bless the burning ground by the rain

Such endless flowers with me yet was not
And beyond the horizon, closely to him came
See that nets are empty, and to catch there was nobody
And never was, was not, was not, was not  
The sky of the color of the rain.





"At The Move Of The Leg"
Альбом "Archangelsk"
Альбомы Б.Г.
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