Текст песни Эльмира Галеева - Ворожба

I spread you in a glass
A handful of burnt hair.
So as not to eat, so as not to sing,
I didn't drink, I couldn't sleep.

So that youth is not a joy,
So that sugar is not sweet,
So that you do not get along in the darkness of the night
With a young wife.

As my hair is golden
Have become gray ash
So your years are young
Will become white in winter.

To go blind-deaf,
To dry up like moss
To leave like a sigh.

M. Tsvetaeva
November 3, 1918