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Drink no wine, Gertrude (BG)
 
In Ipatyevskaya outskirts of town they lead a steed along the streets.
On the streets, it's a drunken mess;
On the streets, it's a full apathism.
On him a bridle from the ice;
On him – the crown of the fire;
He could burn down this city –
But city, in essence, is not.
 
Formerly he was other;
He was a woman with a narrow face;
On him was a black corsage,
And in corsage was hidden dagger.
And when around blood was pouring –
To him in the window came guest;
And when this guest was inside,
He quietly-calmly said:
 
Drink no wine, Gertrude;
Drunkenness not adorns the ladies.
You'll get drunk into trash – and it will be nasty
For comrades and friends.
Hold on to the anchor stronger –
The anchor will not fail;
And if you understand that samsara – nirvana,
Then any sadness will pass.
 
So let centuries pass;
A river rides across the sky
And to all, who will raise their eyes,
Out of a little boat is waving a hand;
So let on the heart confusion,
But to all, who wants and waits,
Enough to quit playing –
And the heart will sing with a smile:
 
Drink no wine, Gertrude;
Drunkenness not adorns the ladies.
You'll get drunk into trash – and it will be nasty
For comrades and friends.
Hold on to the anchor stronger –
The anchor will not fail;
And if you understand that samsara – nirvana,
Any sadness will pass.


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