Текст песни Ксения Полтева - Письмо в деревню.

LETTER TO THE VILLAGE

My old friend! Escape from boredom,
extremely strong at this time of year,
I am writing you to the village, on the nature,
unaccustomed to urban gossip.
What is new news for you
the blessed in your village?
We fool married the princess,
thus founding a dynasty
their own kind. Root grafted,
autocracy crowning nationality.
(Nothing - not a void, but uniformity,
no differences and all).
... Someday in the novel describe
lost likeness and similarities;
slowly but surely laziness of the soul
hitherto in the near generates bestiality -
not murderous atrocity, not revenge
for rebellious look and angry cry, -
empty indifferent brainless
ability to trample more than eat.
(And what to say - no cool
desire to hold the whole world in your pocket.
All - people, all eager to live a normal life -
who can condemn them for it?
And I wander among them, as in the mist,
absently. And consolation weak
I remained dubious fame
last poet of the earth.)

That's the way live - going down the stairs,
plowed a decent coat,
coming decent smiling
Sit in its decent cars,
describes an arc on the ring:
left - the forest, right - the old town
rotates in the inner circle
unlubricated wheel of Samsara.
Dark circle. Already lose the thread,
from many of the above - vchuzhe.
It's all over. And no one to blame.
And no one to love. And it's worse.