Lyrics Владимир Высоцкий - Оплавляются свечи

Fused candles
On the old parquet floor,
And flows down on the shoulders
Silver with epaulettes.
As in the agony of wandering
Gold wine ...
All the past is gone, -
What will come is all the same.

And, in the deathbed languor
Looking back,
Run away deer,
Bursting at the volley.
Somebody is aiming at me
On an innocent chest ...
All the past is gone, -
Let something come.

Someone is wicked and skillful,
Having fun at random
The sharp arrows point
In an inflamed sunset.
Heard in the storm of melodies
Repetition of music ...
Let the past go away, -
Let him come what comes.