The wind is blowing across the earth,
Dispersing flocks of gray birds,
Looking for answers to questions
For unrecognizable faces,
And the frost gets stronger under the skin,
Putting your foot into the soul,
The burden is heavy even downhill,
Or maybe I’m wearing it away.
The night rattled with chains,
Flaring my nostrils from dreams,
And the Moon looks slyly out the window,
Explaining what love is,
The blizzard swirled under my hands,
The carousel of fire spun,
The winter was scraped by the winds,
Who will now say the word: “Believe?”
The wax houses are sick,
Played with burning ice
Blame boldly blizzard,
Breaking the contract with fire,
Crooked hands reached out
To the soulful voice of sleep,
From insomnia, dreams have suffocated,
The pain drowned until the morning.
The earthen handrails have died,
Falling like a stone onto the wind rose,
The sharp claws laughed,
The veins overflowed their banks,
Straight along the crooked road
Having played enough of living death,
Woke up my darling
And he looked into her eyes and became angry...
