Текст песни Анна Нетребко - Римский-Корсаков - Не ветер, вея с высоты, op. 43 no.2

Not the Wind Blowing from a height ,
Sheets touched the lunar night ;
You touched my soul -
It is alarming , as sheets,
It is like a harp , polychord .
Everyday whirlwind of her tormented
And a devastating raid ,
Whistling and howling , tearing strings
And entered the cold snow.
Your speech is mellifluous ,
Your light touch
As of colors flying down,
How May night breath of ...