Текст песни О. Мандельштам - Убиты медью вечерней - А-М. Лопушанская, В. Розанов

Killed by the evening copper
And the corollas of words are broken.
And the body requires thorns
And faith is of crazy colors.

Fall on ancient slabs
And to appeal to the passionate God,
And know that prayer is merged
All feelings in one grace!

The tide of praises is growing -
And again, in anticipation of the end,
With the wine of divine blood
His - hearts grow heavy;

And the temple, like a huge ship,
Carries in the depths of centuries.
And the spirit sail is homeless
All the winds are ready to taste.