Текст песни Мошковская Эмма - Печальная арифметика

Here is a pedestrian
Wanders barely
To point "B"
From point "A" ...

Forty eight kilometers!
Against the storms and against the winds!

His legs are braided
And out of the way he is all the time
Getting off
And the poor thing is hard,
And with the answer
He doesn’t agree!

Both in cold and in darkness
To meet him
It turns out another
A pedestrian.

He is coming too, coming ...
And he walks an hour, and two,
And it hurts him
Head...

And no one is visible ahead ...
And, probably, he lost his way! ..

May happen:
At such an hour
His wolves will eat
In the dense forest! ..

And the road does not end
But the task does not work! ..