Lyrics BarnHauz - Пепельное небо
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Когда-то маленьким я был,
И все казалось сказкой мне под небом голубым,
Где молодили яблони плоды в саду, где я задумывался иногда,
Когда за дубом вековым, я наблюдал
И чувствовал, что он живой. Живой была даже вода,
А девочка с восьмого этажа казалась мне богиней, феей.
Но я с годами возмужал и стал глупее.
Я как-то упустил этот момент,
Когда вместе с детством улетела сказка,
И тоска сковала постепенно,
И так в стакане пива пена
Сменила незаметно пену моей Анадиомены.
И за моей спиной, лишившись девства, фея детства поспешила со стыдом одеться,
Пока я пустоту заполнив дымом наблюдал, как пепел падал в небо.
Оно уже не то, когда можно было улыбаться,
Голубизну былую не нашли бы даже Холмс и Ватсон.
Новый цвет неба меня слепит, и я пепел попытался
Позамазать как-нибудь гуашью, но мой детский лепет
Оказался живо смыт дождливым декадансом.
И в тихом танце мелькают тени безобъёмные на стенах,
Пустые, плоские и тёмные - погасло пламя, и ушло с огнём их тело.
И пепел этот тоже липнет к небу.
Но где-то глубоко в душе я знаю -
Существуют люди, что писать умеют маслом,
Они как Аслан, они могут создавать и зажигать
Огонь в сосудах, где погас он.
Когда-нибудь и я найду такого живописца,
И вновь смогу воды живой напиться.
Припев:
Пепел в небе. Пепельное небо
Давит этим цветом пепла в небе.
Мне бы вновь увидеть небо
Небо не из пепла.
И лелею все же в душе своей надежду,
Что небо снова будет голубым.
Once upon a time I was small
And everything seemed like a fairy tale to me under the blue sky,
Where the apple trees were rejuvenated in the garden, where I sometimes thought,
When the age-old oak tree, I watched
And he felt that he was alive. Even the water was alive
And the girl from the eighth floor seemed to me a goddess, a fairy.
But over the years I have matured and become more stupid.
I somehow missed this moment
When a fairy tale flew away with childhood,
And the longing chained gradually
And so there is foam in a glass of beer
Imperceptibly replaced the foam of my Anadiomena.
And behind my back, having lost her virginity, the fairy of childhood hastened to dress with shame,
While I filled the void with smoke, I watched the ash fall into the sky.
It's not when you could smile
Even Holmes and Watson would not have found the blue.
The new color of the sky blinded me and I tried to ash
Smear some gouache, but my baby talk
Was quickly washed away by rainy decadence.
And in a quiet dance, volumeless shadows flicker on the walls,
Empty, flat and dark - the flame went out, and their body went away with the fire.
And this ash also sticks to the sky.
But somewhere deep in my soul I know -
There are people who know how to write in oil,
They are like Aslan, they can create and ignite
The fire in the vessels where it went out.
Someday I will also find such a painter,
And again I can drink living water.
Chorus:
Ashes in the sky. Ash sky
Crushes with this color of ash in the sky.
I would see the sky again
The sky is not made of ashes.
And yet I cherish hope in my soul,
That the sky will be blue again
And everything seemed like a fairy tale to me under the blue sky,
Where the apple trees were rejuvenated in the garden, where I sometimes thought,
When the age-old oak tree, I watched
And he felt that he was alive. Even the water was alive
And the girl from the eighth floor seemed to me a goddess, a fairy.
But over the years I have matured and become more stupid.
I somehow missed this moment
When a fairy tale flew away with childhood,
And the longing chained gradually
And so there is foam in a glass of beer
Imperceptibly replaced the foam of my Anadiomena.
And behind my back, having lost her virginity, the fairy of childhood hastened to dress with shame,
While I filled the void with smoke, I watched the ash fall into the sky.
It's not when you could smile
Even Holmes and Watson would not have found the blue.
The new color of the sky blinded me and I tried to ash
Smear some gouache, but my baby talk
Was quickly washed away by rainy decadence.
And in a quiet dance, volumeless shadows flicker on the walls,
Empty, flat and dark - the flame went out, and their body went away with the fire.
And this ash also sticks to the sky.
But somewhere deep in my soul I know -
There are people who know how to write in oil,
They are like Aslan, they can create and ignite
The fire in the vessels where it went out.
Someday I will also find such a painter,
And again I can drink living water.
Chorus:
Ashes in the sky. Ash sky
Crushes with this color of ash in the sky.
I would see the sky again
The sky is not made of ashes.
And yet I cherish hope in my soul,
That the sky will be blue again