Текст песни Читатель - Ворон. Джио Россо

This happens once in ninety years; Black bird sits on the edge of the well. The sun is palette, forcing the grass to burn. Woman crying, generating monster. A black bird in a beak holds a flower - a branch of jasmine, fragrant and lively. On the paving slabs, the juice of ripe raspberry crushed under the subcovery. Raven takes off, crashed into an airflow. The wind trembles and softly tickles the wings. The city, substituting the sun heated side, moaning under the weight of the towers, sullenly dusty.
Across the border, where July sings. To the old cemetery and forged goal. In a cracked marble - holes, traces from bullets. Watchman Cemetery hides in a fist yawn. Merly steps the procession, the coffin on the shoulders. To the fresh grave, dug on Sunday. The coffin is lowered, (and someone began to shout), the lid is thrown into the priest whispering Psalm. The body is wounded in a savan, like a cocoon, easily wind kisses wrinkled palms. Raven circles, frantically hits the wing, the feathers will creak and the air is passing out. A quiet deceased someone kisses his forehead, and on her face - sleepy serenity. Raven drops from the beak fragrant flower, right on the chest, covered under the clothes.

This happens once in ninety years; The sky from the lake draws warm water. The shadow on the skin draws a lack of light, the lunar apple rolls from the sky.
He smiles asleep to her, the rap of mouth, the fingers slide on the clavicle, cavalry. In the throat crashed solid, acute steel, each sip is slightly heard and careful. The exhalations of their silent, like ultrasound, rolling from the nose, hiding in someone else's larynx. Wet tongue concerns other people's lips. Their silhouettes are drown in dense fog.
In the morning, he covers her with a cloak, looking, as her eyelashes weakly tremble. Fingers curve into claws, crashed into the rod.
It turns into a black-black bird.

This happens once in ninety years; He watches as it matures. He knows what cake she eats for lunch, how many five in the notebook, traces on the neck. He knows what a boy is in love with her, which hates coffee and drink cocoa. All her dresses, (lace, velvet and flax), shoes, hairpins and hundreds of colored pins. He knows that it loves Jasmine as before, (just like in life before. As in life after). He is negligible for her, almost invisible - a black bird, with a glasses-sharp look.

This happens in each of the ages of centuries; He watches as she agitates. And every day brings a fragrant flower, the jasmine branch again puts under the door. The cycle is continuous, the death is quietly suitable for her, separating the soul from the body with a sharp knife. Raven sits on a flexible, thin branch, without a blinding faith from the heart.
He escorts it to the last boundaries. Songs sneeze, burn church candles. The sky concerns the soft eyelashes. Raven, without looking into the eyes, whispering quietly:
''see you''.

And when she is reborn again in the body of the child,
He is watching her through the window glass hospitals.
To, like phoenix from the ash, resurrected, again
Thousands times
merciless
in her
Fall in love.

(c) Jio Rosso

Reads: Maxim Makarevich