Today I lived - it was heard by the wind in the field,
Amid green grasses roaming in the wild.
Nice coast of Don - a round dance of spring boiling,
My distant house, lost behind the steep.
You can’t forget, you can’t see, the echo of time is returning,
Itself invisibly exchanges, does not repent,
Sneaking a gray mouse, times flipping through lives
So simple and unthinkable in oblivion will sink the truth.
Late in the evening, night dashing fires dashing,
I’ll meet you well, but campaigns are the old days.
Remember, be silent. True bitter tincture,
On an icy night, today it has become restless.
You can’t forget, you can’t see, the echo of time is returning,
Itself invisibly exchanges, does not repent,
Sneaking a gray mouse, times flipping through lives
So simple and unthinkable in oblivion will sink the truth.
You can’t forget, you can’t see, the echo of time is returning,
Itself invisibly exchanges, does not repent,
Sneaking a gray mouse, times flipping through lives
So simple and unthinkable in oblivion will sink the truth.
Today I lived - it was heard by the wind in the field,
Amid green grasses roaming in the wild.
Nice coast of Don - a round dance of spring boiling,
My distant house, lost behind the steep.
