Lyrics Левитанский Юрий - Песочные часы

To wake up was so uninteresting,
so I did not want to wake up,
that I had risen from my bed,
not waking up,
washed and shaved,
drank some tea,
not waking up,
and left somewhere,
was there and there,
met with that and with that,
talked about this and that and that,
someone visited and visited,
entered,
sitting,
greeted him,
said goodbye,
someone from something defended,
somewhere again and again moved,
fostered someone
and forgave,
someone was treating something to someone
and he responded by himself to somebody,
someone promised something to someone,
to inexplicable secrets was attached
and, a vague thirst for action,
friends and acquaintances
some rendered services,
and even helped one of them
door repair lock
(the friend waited for arrival of the mother-in-law from a summer residence)
well, in a word, I did things,
solved a variety of tasks -
and at the same time moved like a shadow,
not waking up,
meanwhile, how is the day
all the time waking up,
woke up,
poured over,
poured
and tech
between the fingers like sand
in the hours of sand,
as long as the whole woke up,
has expired
On the groove between the cones of glass,
and the upper cone above me was empty,
and there were already gleaming stars,
and you could go home again
and go to bed,
and to extinguish the lamp,
and wait,
while someone is above me
will turn the hourglass,
moving two cones of glass,
and listen again,
how the sand flows,
unhurried counting time.

I was a particle of this sand,
participant in its high ups,
its cruel storms,
its falls,
his irresistible throw;
which all instantly changed,
of that indomitable throw,
which were measured steadily
movement of days,
centuries and seconds
in an endless series of millennia.

I was a particle of this sand,
living in its great deserts,
a particle of these huge masses,
running with uniform waves.

What winds were singing for us!
What blizzards wept over us!
What eddies moved afterwards!

And I do not know,
how many thousands of years
or centuries
rushed past me,
but my life lasted forever,
and in it was the primacy of being,
subject to a steady rhythm,
and there was a harmony of its own
and a feeling of lasting peace
in the movement from the throw to the throw.

I was a particle of this sand,
particle of an infinite flow,
who runs a tireless run
between two huge cones of glass,
and I liked the life of sand,
a myriad of grains of sand
with their common and unimportant fate,
their feasts,
their holidays and weekdays,
their passions,
their high impulses,
all the pathos of their intentions of the good.

Also,
among many others,
circling with me in my desert,
there was one grain of sand,
from which
I was, as they say, without a mind,
about which she did not know herself,
although it was also my darkness,
and light
in my window.

Who knows, so far
love still, perhaps ...

But about this
still special becomes conversation.

I want to go there again, in the year of ignorance,
where so small and so naive are the facts
about heaven, about earth ...
Yes, in those years
faith prevails,
yes, blind,
but how nice to remember, falling asleep,
that the land rests on three whales,
and waking up -
yes, on three whales
Reliable and stable rest,
and nothing to worry about,
and the world is stability itself,
herself
harmony,
not bottomless chaos,
not this fleeing darkness,
addicted
in the circle of the universal black emptiness,
where a lone ball was lost
spinning ...
Thank you, whales,
for a solid illusion of peace!
What price,
at the cost of any losses
I appreciated how sweet is ignorance
and how dangerous is the pernicious art -
the spirit is maliciously evil.
But this fruit,
ah, this fruit is forbidden -
how sweet and how bitter his taste! ..

Meanwhile, the sand in my sandy hours
woke up,
and above me was empty
glass dome,
there sparkled the stars,
and it was necessary to wait only a moment,
while again someone over me
will turn the hourglass,
moving two cones of glass,
and listen again,
how the sand flows,
unhurried counting time.