Текст песни Белый А. - Великан

"It's too late, dear, late ... sleep:
this is a lie...
May be the best days.

We will not see them ... Late ... sleep ...
This is a lie".

The wind is cold inviting roars,
it's cold to us ...
Someone, huge, in the fog runs ...

Laughs softly The hand beckons.
Who is it there?

Sat across the river. Gray beard
we nodded
and put it in the mist of the blue.

Ah, that, right, was the ghost of the night ...
Here he is gone.

Sleepy waves run on the river.
Month rises.
The cold wind rustles in the reed.

Someone homeless sings far away
sleepy sings.

“All this is nonsense ... We are alone in the field.
Wet fog
we, like babies, will hide in the shadows ...

Too late, dear, late. Sleep
This is a lie..."

March 1901, Moscow