Текст песни
From the first collection of poems "In Your Name” (Russian: Во имя твоё).
In English (interpretation by Lord Muck and author):
Scarlet blood paint had been spilled by the horizon-giver
And the mist hung, clear and light, right above the river.
Slow clouds of smoke were shaped like a rising funnel.
Noise and cries were heard: the birds hastened going south-tunnel.
Here the body lies all night, it's like a thing, that's seeming,
All are busy, in a rush, different in dreaming.
Just the oldie maple tree threw its wreath in parting.
Golden autumn’s here again with a silent party.
