Текст песни Светлана Чернова - Штукатурка валится с потолка

***

The plaster falls from the ceiling
with a painted sky.
To him from the bed stretched out a hand,
exactly begging God.
Under the bed debris obsolete worlds
clubs form the new micro-universes,
where space for poetry and songs to play
Unwritten - then certainly immortal,
as we are...
As we are,
that we are mired in the pitch dust
cities,
erected in the corners of this round of the galaxy,
making all new ones yourself.
And in an effort to move from theory to practice,
we break the brains,
and fly to pieces /
GEARS / debris / molecules / atoms
our thoughts and feelings to other worlds -
in the endless darkness gods under the beds.

27.06.2015g.