Текст песни Иван Бунин запись голоса - Иерихон

JERICHO

Lights of green flies flow, glide.
It's hot and foggy over the Dead Sea
From the sparkle of the stars The sand in the distance is like manna
And a vague hum, trembling, conjures the ear.

Then the murmur of toads. It lasts relentlessly
Calls, languishes ... But the hour is deaf midnight.
Perhaps only the Spirit is listening to them
Among the stones in the wilderness of John.
There, between the stars, a sharp peak turns black
Mountains of Lent. A little lamp is glowing.
At the bottom of the languor. Luscious and sweet

Mimosas smell. Sugar cane
It burns from flies ... And the Fever slumbers,
Throwing back a pale face under the toad delirium.