Текст песни Мария Бунтарская - Байрону - Марина Цветаева

I think about the morning of your glory,
About the morning of your days
When they woke up a demon from sleep you
And God for people.

I think about how your eyebrows
Agreed on the torches of your eyes,
About how lava ancient blood
According to your veils spread.

I think about my fingers, very long,
In wavy hair
And about all - in the alarms and in the living rooms -
You are thirsty eyes.

And about the hearts that are too young -
You did not have time to read
In those times, when the moon boom
And Gasley in your honor.

I think about the half-walled room,
About velvet, pronounced to lace,
About all verses whatever they say
You - I, I - you.

I think about the handful of dust,
The remaining of your lips and eyes ...
About all the eyes who are in the grave.
About them and us.