...Грусть этих дней, свет этих дней,
Кровь этих слов, яд этих лет...
Радость - лишь свет
Усталого солнца,
Согревшего нас
Прощальным теплом...
... Нас ждёт туман на равнинах вечности, -
Непроглядная пелена на лике грядущего;
И я гляжу в закат этого мира
И чувствую в молчании сумерек
Присутствие ночи.
...Среди скорби и отчаяния
Меня согревает
Лишь тепло моей памяти,
Гибнущий мир - смятение в душах,
Не осознавших начало агонии.
Грусть этих дней, свет этих дней,
Кровь этих слов, яд этих лет...
Радость - лишь свет
Усталого солнца,
Согревшего нас
Прощальным теплом...
... Нас ждёт туман на равнинах вечности, -
Непроглядная пелена на лике грядущего;
И я гляжу в закат этого мира...
Моя кровь - роса вечерней зари.
Translated:
Grief of these days, light of these days,
Blood of these words, poison of these years...
The joy is only a light of the tired sun, that warmed us
with the farewell heat...
...The mist awaits us
on the plains of eternity, -
The opaque Shroud upon the face
of the upcoming.
And I stare into dusk of this world
And in the silence of twilight,
I feel a presence of night.
Among mourning and despair
Only a warmth of my memory is heating me.
Dying world - confusion in souls,
that haven't cognised the beginning of agony.
Grief of these days, light of these days,
Blood of these words, poison of these years...
The joy is only a light of the tired sun, that warmed us
with the farewell heat...
...The mist awaits us
on the plains of eternity, -
The opaque Shroud upon the face
of the upcoming
And I stare into dusk of this world
My blood is the dew of afterglow.
... sadness of these days, the light of these days,
Blood of these words, poison of these years ...
Joy - only light
Tired sun
Waured us
Farewell warmth ...
... We are waiting for fog on the plains of eternity, -
Impenetrable paddle on the face of the coming;
And I look into the sunset of this world
And feel twilight in silence
The presence of the night.
... among grief and despair
It warms me
Only the warmth of my memory,
Fingering world - confusion in the souls,
Not aware of the beginning of agony.
Sadness of these days, the light of these days,
Blood of these words, poison of these years ...
Joy - only light
Tired sun
Waured us
Farewell warmth ...
... We are waiting for fog on the plains of eternity, -
Impenetrable paddle on the face of the coming;
And I look into the sunset of this world ...
My blood is the dew of evening dawn.
Translated:
Grief Of These Days, Light Of These Days,
Blood of these Words, Poison Of Thesee Years ...
The Joy Is Only A Light Of The Tired Sun, That Warmed US
With the Farewell Heat ...
... The Mist AWAITS US
ON THE PLAINS OF ETERNITY -
THE OPAQUE SHROUD UPON THE FACE
Of the upcoming.
AND I STARE INTO DUSK OF THIS WORLD
AND IN THE SILENCE OF TWILIGHT,
I FEEL A PRESENCE OF NIGHT.
Among Mourning and Despair
Only A Warmth of My Memory Is Heating Me.
Dying World - Confusion in Souls,
That Haven't Cognised The Beginning Of Agony.
Grief Of These Days, Light Of These Days,
Blood of these Words, Poison Of Thesee Years ...
The Joy Is Only A Light Of The Tired Sun, That Warmed US
With the Farewell Heat ...
... The Mist AWAITS US
ON THE PLAINS OF ETERNITY -
THE OPAQUE SHROUD UPON THE FACE
Of The Upcoming.
AND I STARE INTO DUSK OF THIS WORLD
My Blood Is The Dew of Afterglow.