Текст песни Григорий Данской - Ивиковы журавли

Snow asks for a shower, only snow.
As if from the homeland of a clod of earth.
In the roadside fragment of the sky
Circling Ivik Cranes.
Circling Ivik Pathfinders
over plowed rot fields.
And banging in the clouds of hoof
Black Ivik Cranes.

Snow asks for a shower, only snow.
So that peace forever, forever.
Infantile crank Onegin
looking with sadness in the twentieth century.
On the Baltic gray puddles,
on the skeletons of steel ships.
Looks at the sky - and it turns in the sky
a flock of Ivik cranes.

Snow asks the soul to the open spaces
Rus, on the buttonholes of the soldiers,
on shoulder straps to the holy majors,
on the archangel chinny stench,
on the churches tin booths,
where is the lord so terribly tall
on my wooden lips,
on the temple salted with pain,
on the charred villages,
to racristan cities ...
Well, in the sky so funny
crows fly to nowhere.
Only above, at the very sun,
more creepy and fun
emerald heart beats
Black Ivik Cranes ...

... Snow asks for a shower, only snow,
as if from the homeland of a clod of earth.
In the roadside fragment of the sky
Circling Ivik Cranes.
Nowhere can we not get away from them,
so as not to hear their voices,
so as not to beat in the heart
their Homeric eyes.
Under the sad is singing
get lost would die.
And I think - this is salvation
even if death is called.
Over the centuries, like the steps
the rivers are running, the ships are on them ...
And Onegin laughs - that death is to us,
if cranes fly in the sky ...