Текст песни Елена Фролова - Пять

The paddle is still the pier!
Are there lanterns in Ostia?
What a stunted sadness
In the spills of the pink dawn!
And the memory to the heart is everything: "Burn!"

The soul is on fire; grief, trembling ...
And waits for someone to knock on the door
And the green ray will run
Just like now, like now ...
And the memory whispers: "Friend, believe me."

I believe: the day is blessed!
Pour the oil from the lamps!
What a milky, sweet captivity!
Oh, honey of unfulfilled delights!
And my memory: "The Lord's garden!"

Lord's garden, great Rome,
I'll come back to you again!
We, pilgrims, are burning to you,
We are on fire to crucify ourselves! ..
And the echo whispers: "Five!"