Текст песни Владимир Завгородний - Мой Донецк

My Donetsk
                  Vladimir Zavgorodniy

And I'm sick of you forever ,
even time is not curable .
By countless boulevards yours
on your philosophical beer
I wander , your restless
pilgrim .

A race of wild fields
dust times under asphalt cellar
in its daring blew the trumpets,
you buzish , earth with heaven hammering .
Gods down your poplars
wash you.

Like a rose its petal
you tore me throwing winds.
But I'll be back , go back , give a deadline
and breathed your midday smog
how to breathe - defrocked deacon
incense .

In a foreign land forests, as in a dream ,
heavens pour balm hearts ...
Black Stone storing in depth,
gray stone holding on his back,
a little cry about me
My Donetsk .