Текст песни Александр Ириарте - Незабудки И Кипарисы

The ghosts howl, furrowing
Ashes-manes of thunderstorm dunes ...
The house floats across the rain.
The house flies in spite of the rain.

As the wave calls under the hem
Those who are branded with bitterness,
This is how the cypress valley lives
Behind a wall of blue flames -

Ugly, smooth, dull lights
Inaccessible boulders ...
That wall is not worse to find
And not a mile to find - waves.

- You are pale ...
- I'm on my way.
- You're like chalk!
- Do not kidding ME.
- Seriously!
- This is the pallor of the July thunderstorms
Pathetic, stuffy ... come here!
Here, touch - a little to the left - here!
Hear how he calls me!
I'm black! I am from coniferous spray -
Black foam
explosive fireworks!
I'm tender - I'm a bloody breeze
Over a wall of azure micas ...
There was once a gap in it,
But they patched it up with me.
I have grown. Overgrown with a wall
Unforgettable ...
O winds, where are they ?!
your strength ...

And the house is broken
And its surroundings are empty
Petals of your grievances
The door is walled up, and you are

So you will run, run,
As on the sea in a thunderstorm - boats,
Until the last frontier
Where the wave and the needles are black

But there's a blue flower in my chest
Will not let you forget.
This is how death and pain fight
For the absurd power: to love.