by Boris Grebenshchikov
Translated by Yury Nesterenko
What did you do? I was flowing like a stream.
What have you brought? What will vanish like a dream;
Songs with no aim, songs without shame,
Sung just to favor your sorrow to pass.
What can we govern with our controls?
Just granite fields, birds of ash and crystal balls.
Whereon we went, there is only sky and land,
But when wind comes up, you will not pity us.
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