Текст песни Юрий Кукин - Памирский блюз

Dead light moon pours
Snow slopes mountains
The lamp in the tent flashes, and melts
Quiet male conversation.
Someone reads someone dreams,
I ran blues.
And, in feline, silently walking,
We are selected sadness.

Ancient mountains listen to the wind,
He also seeks us.
In the world alone we and cigarette
Smoke tent is full.
In memory of the face acquaintances pop up,
Halls of concert lights.
I spindle the blues
About outgoing days.
In this sublunary and ghostly world
Happy a little bit, I confess
And on the distant deserted pamp
I ran blues.