Текст песни Леонид Курбатов - Вальс Манарага

Sometime it must be bad
The creator worked, and now
This white miracle is worth
At the edge of the polar latitudes.
Frozen Star Moisture
Fato lies on the slopes
Mount Manaraga rested
With a bear paw to the zenith

There's a searing arctic wind here
Among the rocks he is looking for housing
And the copper sun in the evening
She slides down the slopes.
She's a formidable right hand
Reindeer looms herds
And a sharp rocky comb
Teasing vortices in the clouds

Throughout life sedate
To suddenly understand that everything is crap,
Get away from everyday foam
And come here again.
Know the latitude of distances
Frost, tired legs,
Flashes of aurora borealis
Swaying in our pupils

What an insignificant misfortune
Look steep from the top
Passions, ambitions of power ...
I am higher! They are under me!
And life is like sour home brew
It won't give me sore teeth
As long as Mount Manaraga
A vision from the tundra rises