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|St. George's day (BG)
I stood and watched as the wind tears
Wreaths from your head.
And one of us made a chivalrous gesture –
Sing a song, sing...
Now he became gold in the lists of saints,
He's your new last hero.
Were saying that I could be following –
Forgive me, but it will be someone else.
Unknown woman with Tatyana sell themselves
In the shadow of thy cross,
Thanking for the right to work;
And you, sing a song, sing...
Your singer had disappeared in the depth of thy ores,
Carved cage is empty.
Were saying that I'm in pretenders on throne –
Forgive me, but there will be someone other.
In skies from cardboard are flying lights,
Carrying away our girls away.
Anubis beckons you with his left hand,
And you, sing, don't be silent...
A burnt sailor from the shores of Orion
Is elected the son of the regiment.
You considered that it was me
That night –
Forgive me, it was someone else.
But when the seven stars above your head
Will stand up in a scarlet sickle,
And drunk hunter will let off the dogs
On the expanses of thy emptiness,
I'll remember those who are more beautiful than you,
Wiser than you, better than you;
But who from them was walking on broken glass
Just as gracefully as you?
Soon St. George's day, and more and more candles
At abandoned royal gates.
But either burn them or don't burn them, they will not
Better sing, sing.
Yesterday the pioneers from the monastery
Brought me the subpoenas,
And they said that I would be in the list of judges –
Forgive me, it will be someone else.
From driven away into servitude I learned about your
From blue-eyed wolves - about all your wonders.
In a white lace, on the green grass,
Got lost my soul;
Got lost my eyes.
From the banks of Botticelli white snow into the fire,
From ships of swans with swallow – into shade.
Soon St. George's day, my joy,
And we will go up –
Upward, upward, upward,
Upward along flow.