Текст песни Исполнитель Неизвестен - Трава разлуки

My gold is fragile in the wind,
My silver is like a drop of dew a fire ...
The blood from his face will wipe the wind with a thin hand:
Tomorrow will not come -
    Only the grass of separation is high.

My gold - feather grass and dry grass,
My silver was changed for steel and pain;
Strings do not ring - the wind beats in the sky ...
Do not disturb me -
    Just close my eyes to me.

Broke armor - to breathe easier to me:
A small sin - in battle, not to pity;
From flowers and stars do not weave a wreath already -
On the road of tears
    Only the grass of separation is high.

Heather on the plain, and mountains like bitter ice,
Do not find a valley where the grass meets growing ...
Where can I find the strength to go back through the ages,
That you - forgive? ..
    And the grass of separation is high.

A rustle of brittle ice, whether the words rustle,
Is the homeless soul crying in the valley -
Black poppies sea, yes there is no my flower:
Only wormwood and bitterness,
    Yes the separation is high ...

My gold is fragile in the wind,
My silver is like a drop of dew a fire ...
The blood from his face will wipe the wind with a thin hand:
Tomorrow will not come -
    Only the grass