Translated by Dmitry Kovalenin
Wolves and Ravens
A Swallow
25 to 10
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 there ain't no inside -
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
Everything's calm
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.