no one ever
would spite me.
I wish I could do it myself but
I am afraid I can't,
I can't pick the right colours.
I am riding my horse
in the same dark woods,
And wake up in cold sweat
every other day from nightmares.
Draw my picture
even with a bad shade,
On a brick wall as long
as it is toughing,
So that even my fist would show,
And from cold eye-brows it would blow
and show my warm house.
I wish I could but I don't have
the coulours,
I know only two
and I hold them both.
One is white, the other is black
two lines of my life,
I wish I could colour them
But I don't have the right coulours.
Draw a picture of me
and right to a 'T',
So that even my mother...
so that even my mother
wouldn't be afraid for her son.
Draw me as a crane
for an instant,
I want to look at people...
I want to look at people..,
I want to see people from the altitude
of a crane's beak.
I wish I could,
But my brush is broken,
Only a finger-board can suffer
the revolt of fingers.
And the leaves are flying up
in the sky,
In the clouds
Of these notes, bitter notes
flying off the broken strings
of this guitar.
On the carpet of yellow leaves
in a simple dress
Of the silk that wind presented
on occasion
Autumn danced beneath the trees
a simple tender dance
Day was losing its ground
In warmth of saxophone sound
And from all around the city
people came to us
And enchanting sounds of music
filled the twilight
To a golden dancer,
birds would clap their wings
It was the day which has passed
It was the best of our past
I fall asleep and I see
In that repeating night dream
The dance of autumn colors
on the street
The trees are losing their leaves
And gramophone spins its disk:
"Hold on my dream don't go away,
Stay longer please..."
I fall asleep and I see
In that repeating night dream
Hold on my dream don't go away,
Stay longer please...
Subtitles by Alexander Nemo (Canada)
and Boris Bulgakov (Russia)
Lyrics translation
by Alexander Nemo (Canada)
and Michael Shengaout (USA)
The End