А. Блок читает Человек-жираф - Одиночество
текст песни

The river carried an ice floe in the wind
There was spring, and the wind howled.
From a dumped fireplace
An obscure evening evening gloom sailed.
And he sat in front of the fireplace
He burned out and pulled away
And a look, once Orlin,
The cooled ash watched.
In the evening dusk surfaced
Before him, vision of the past days
Waking up ancient sorrows
Game of ethereal shadows.
One, forgotten by the world,
Called, but still alive,
From the gloom of past idols
He nodded his tired head ...
Friends of experienced strings,
Enemies are cruel features
Loved and loved ones
Floating from gray darkness ...
Everyone threw it, forgot everywhere
No need to suffer and wait
Only the ash remains a pile
Observe a gaze ...
Where were his dreams rushing?
Before what was the poor mind leaning?
He remembered his throwing
I woke up the alarms of previous thoughts ...
And it was sweet to be tired
Gratifying as never before
That the heart did not want anymore
No shocks, no work,
No flattery, no love, no glory
No enlightenment, no loss ...
Memories were majestic,
Like clouds, hugged the sunset,
Pile of a pile of towers,
Erected walls, cities,
Where the sky was yellow and terrible,
And thunderstorm in young years ...
From a dumped fireplace
The unclear dusk sailed and sailed
The river carried an ice floe in the wind
There was spring, and the wind howled.