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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