Текст песни Ирина Круглова - Сказка Странствий

"Tale of wanderings"

Our white city of sand in the morning was washed away by a wave.
What a pity the game is over, my friend, it's time to go home.
Remove the sword on the mezzanine, and hang the cloak in the closet,
And again stop dreaming about distant shores.

Well, why are you sad, my friend? You asked for it
When we were exhausted in the pouring rain
When the scorching heat drove us crazy
When you and I realized that this is not a game.

The tale of wanderings - the cunning fairy of the roads -
Will not let go of the one who stepped over the threshold.
You will never know at the beginning of the journey
Where can the road take you.

And tomorrow someone will knock on the slammed door
Get the sword from the mezzanine and put on your cloak again,
Wherever it takes you, you can easily find
The same knight riders from the dream army.

By the shine of the youth in the eyes, by the belief in miracles,
You can easily recognize them by the audacity of ideas.
Let the white city of sand be washed away in the morning by the wave,
Let's build a new one - don't worry, don't be discouraged, my friend!

The tale of wanderings - a merry fairy of the roads -
Will not let go of the one who stepped over the roads.
If only we knew at the beginning of the path,
Where does the road want to take us all.