Текст песни Владимир Маслаков - Во все глаза гляжу на Охту

In the eyes of all look at Okhta
Interfere with tears and mist
From the word "homeland" I glohnu
And only I hear - "immigrants"
So far, I do not believe in your existence
And it's more bitter than the loss, blacker than death
And a lie, my Petersburg.
My dead rider floats in anguish,
Do not explain, but that's what I just annoying
I somehow manage to live
In a remote province near the sea
I have not gone crazy yet, but picked up.
No more sorrow! No better staff and scrip,
Is it not better, since torn from the hands of the skeleton
And burned bridges. We will not die,
My dear Postumus, in the capital of terrible beauty.
Sad, fall leaves, fall is coming
Wisdom with her. I wept before death
About poor homeland moey.1