strike drone spotting as a capital offense close your eyes enjoy the sound of thunder those who already tried just do not wonder why buanarotti stopped to fence
Метка: #english
The deadline is not set yet, the calendar's silent still, But the sky whispers - alas, and each sunset's bitter with Foreboding, for whom will weep the church bell-ringer at dawn - So frightening to guess in the night. I would sleep - but there's no sleep, silence is ringing, ringing, As if a mosquito or as if a drawn bowstring, And the dim lanternship, the midnight blue aconite, Blooms in the dust of snow. To sob until morning, to sob at the damned lanterns, And to wait and not wait anymore, and to tread the black trace To the warehouses of memory into frenzy, till dawn So they go insane.
Перевод на английский текста Ольги Макеевой Еще не назначен срок, еще молчит календарь, Но небо шепчет – увы, и каждый закат горчит Предчувствием, и по ком всплакнет на заре звонарь – Так страшно гадать в ночи. Уснуть бы – но сна как нет, звенит тишина, звенит, Не то комаром, не то натянутой тетивой, И тусклое фонарье, полуночный аконит, Цветет в пыли снеговой. Рыдать до утра, рыдать на чертовые фонари, И ждать и не ждать уже, и в памяти закрома Протаптывать черный след до одури, до зари Так сходят с ума.
it doesn't tea it doesn't coffee even it doesn't rain on chilly winter night and it's so plain and real that marx was right and even left sometimes with russia kievan
young angels don't believe
in hell and heaven anymore
they know the truth
that apples are coming far from pines
oh well god is a bit of bore
so plain and smooth
just snow this part of the world cover country with ice you know it squirted enough now with blood and delusions avenging archangel has curled into fireball nice and clean end of world void's calling god's bluff when unreal truth comes
a wishing bone will grant the final wish a chicken will be borne by plymouth rock by both halves of it and flying fish will crack the skull and eve will start to smoke
never stopping in constantinople made unstable time in istanbul clock and space are just that just a scopal libel-label of mystical school where pupils are told to be modest and are finally hidden in hell so short of the fall latter august that you were unable to tell
I don't have to be but let me be a human bumblebee flies as if free but sound is too much like motor's buzz the bottom it will touch of shattered glass
when amber light illuminates the life is on a hold and you are standing at some gates impoverished with mold a humpbacked dwarf is holding still and will not let you in the world has lost all fizz and thrill but death will not begin
so now i have just emptiness to celebrate all other holidays and dates are null and void there's no nav for me as heaven's delegate a semi-solid phase of traitors gog magog