Текст песни Игорь Волошин - Светает

It is getting light.
Gray window
already stigmatizes a damp wall.
And sparrows, foolishly off topic,
glued stars like millet.

Scaring the well-fed pigeons
the old man on the porch of the driveway
blessed and drunk
sings imperishable "Stairway"

Fog, as thick as psalms
crawls for hours in Salvador
flowing into stone pores
soulless and empty pores.

Children play in the yard.
Holy naive, funny squabbles.
Their babble is cocky and tall
rings like a morning in January ...

  2001