Текст песни Злищев А. - Город

In my pupil is placed city
With loneliness noisy crowd.
And pursues the cold marble
From the front to the Neva Bay.

Clouds like concrete slabs
Scattered over thousands of miles.
Their road rains washed out,
Like tears in the wake churchyard.

I'm not old, but no longer young.
Memory builds a reliable bulwark.
I got a cold city
Trёhsotletnih sour bogs.

And in this harried city,
Wool coat throwing,
Rove somewhere forgotten summer,
As the subway tunnel winds.

And when this city will decompose
Stacks of us in the black barracks,
I will break the cloud of face,
As bracing spell under the ice fisherman.

Alexander Zlischev "City"