Feelin’s, Boris Savoldelli Scarlet Rays the Rising Sun Weaves into the Lake

Hello everybody, nice to see you over here with my whiskey…

Scarlet rays the rising sun weaves into the lake.
Woodcocks, wailing on the boughs, pinewood echoes wake.

There's a weeping oriole hidden in a tree.
I alone don't wish to weep – all is fine with me.

Down the road at eventide you shall come, I know.
In the nearest rick we'll sit with fresh hay below.

I shall kiss you till you swoon, crush you like a bloom.
When a fellow's drunk with joy for reason there's no room.

You'll respond to my caress, cast your veil away,
I shall bear you to the bushes, there till dawn we'll stay.

Выткался на озере алый свет зари.
На бору со звонами плачут глухари.
Плачет где-то иволга, схоронясь в дупло.
Только мне не плачется – на душе светло.