(Aquarium)
Translated by Dmitry Kovalenin
WOLVES AND RAVENS
Is it God Himself, or is it just the night smelling of incense
All around us there's a forest, dark, mossy and cold
Wonder if we are blessed, or ambushed, or the double sense
Tickling to the touch, but a draught to the soul
Here they come carrying icons, but the face on them's unknown
Lamps from under dark waters light their pasture so far
Can't recall how we stood up, how we left the room all alone
All I knew was that we'd go out for that All-Warming Star
Here the temple stands high, pitch-dark under the cupola
Not a damn thing we saw, though we looked our eyes blind;
I would light up a candle, had not they sold each candle out
I'd burn some spirit in my palm, was it not so hard to find
And all around us there's snow, snow no matter which way you choose
"It's fun barefoot on snow if as clean your souls are"...
So we'd've perished down to Hell, if not for the ravens and wolves
They came and said, "Where do you run? Must it be All-Warming Star?"
They gilded crosses, stuck them into every hole around
But they exchanged for wine their only Given One
Then, hung over on the morrow, came for water but only found
In place of the river, the Mongol Shuudan
So we would love to send the angels any greeting, any sign from us -
But as we covered our tracks, we had lost where they are -
So everyone would only get what he deserves for his guilty past
If it wasn't for the shining of that pure Star
So what to do, what else to sing for, if not for the empty hand?
We'll get burnt in this void, if we ever don't sing
And if my songs fail unsung, then the hawks will return again
Across the troubled waters, their eyes unseen
Well, if so, let'em try - I'm a bird from the darkest woods,
See, I've got nowhere to run, ice-bound so far
So let me cover you, and you cover me, all my ravens and wolves
So that one day one of us might reach that pure Star
So what to cry for, even if it's pitch-dark under the cupola?
What is here to die of, even with our eyes blind?
And what's so fatal, even if they have sold every candle out?
Y'bet the place lacks a fire that we know how to find
And maybe it's true, "There is no way but a thorny path,
No other hands for a Miracle but the ones' who clean are"
But it's only wolves and ravens who'd been really warm to us
And who'd blessed us on our long way to that pure Star
A SWALLOW
Hop, little swallow, hop
On the yard's sand
Hop, little swallow, hop
Into my hand
The Sun is high,
Which means time is fine -
Hop, little swallow, hop
Peace comes to an end
Hop, little swallow, hop
Back home on tiptoes
Hop, little swallow, hop
An axe in your claws
Outside it's bright
But inside there's no light -
Doesn't it mean that your house
Is full of foes?
Life wounds like a stone -
Ripples in the air
Hop, little swallow, hop
Foes everywhere
Let daring hawks
Fight the evil in flocks -
And you, my swallow, sing on
Don't poke into there
Sing, little swallow, sing
And we'll play a drum
Hawks all over the sky
They go and they come
A hawk over earth
A wench giving birth
It's all as it used to be
25 TO 10
I'm an engineer for one hundred a month
I would love to get more but I won't
And for these ten years out of my twenty-five
I'm not sure I know what I want
And there hardly is any reason for me
To be proud of my own lot
But if I could choose myself once again
Sure I'd choose the myself I've got
I'm twenty-five, and ten years out of that
I've been singing I don't know what
He's been standing behind my left shoulder, and yet
I'm not scared of Him a lot
Let my words sound so unclear to you -
Don't you blame me for that anyway
In the eyes of the One behind the left shoulder
We're all equal in the end of the day
God knows, maybe tomorrow the hands of the clock
Will start turning back unrestrained
And the One bemoaned and released from the Cross
Will be crucified again
And the tender lips will start trying hard
To seek their Christ unseen
But me, I sang what I sang, so at least
For that part my conscience is clean
And I cherish whatever has happened to me
Even what went wrong as I guess
Let my head contain such a feather-brain
And my temple be real mess
I have just been trying to tend my garden
Not spoiling the lovely view
So forgive me, Careless Fisherman
And you, Chief of Frontier, get the clue