Хук Справа - Огни Отмщения
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Хук Справа - Огни Отмщения - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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В свете Купальских костров,
В солнечном яростном пламени,
В ночной тишине вещих снов
Видим мы тех, кто не с нами…
Смертью повязаны,
Речи все сказаны,
В промерзшей земле – мягкий пух.
Что мы обязаны?
Руки развязаны?
Парит в облаках его дух.
Над вечными спорами,
Над уговорами
И в сомне бессмысленных слов.
Над веры опорами,
За крови просторами,
В седой синеве облаков.
Мы были все разные:
Зеленые, красные
Средь буйства ошибок и дум.
Узнали прекрасно,
Что стало опасно
Быть русским на Родине вдруг.
Смотрели – не видели.
Туземные жители
Здесь стали творить произвол.
Кого-то обидели?
Седые родители.
И в морге за номером стол.
Мы будем ругаться?
Мы будем бояться?
Себя еще пуще разделим?
А, может, сражаться?
И не сдаваться?
И в себя наконец-то поверим?
Нас мало и так,
Кому не пустяк,
Что гости свой статус забыли.
Кто-то под флаг,
Кто-то в кулак
Свои ладони сложили.
А там, в облаках,
В рассветных порах
Улыбки всех тех, кто не с нами.
В живущих умах,
В крови берегах
Мерцают отмщенья огнями.
In the light of Kupala bonfires,
In a solar furious flame,
In the night silence of prophetic dreams
We see those who are not with us ...
They are tied with death,
Speech all said
In frozen ground - soft fluff.
What are we owed?
Hands are untied?
It soars in the clouds his spirit.
Above eternal disputes,
Above persuasion
And in doubtful words.
Above the faith of the supports,
For the blood of the spaces,
In the gray -haired blue clouds.
We were all different:
Green, red
Among the riot of errors and thoughts.
Learned perfectly
What became dangerous
To be Russian in homeland suddenly.
They looked - did not see.
Native residents
Here they began to create arbitrariness.
Did you offend someone?
Gray parents.
And in the morgue at the number table.
Will we swear?
Will we be afraid?
Will we divide ourselves even more?
Or maybe fight?
And do not give up?
And finally we will believe in yourself?
There are few of us and so
Who is not a trifle
That the guests have forgotten their status.
Someone under the flag
Someone in a fist
They put their palms.
And there, in the clouds,
In dawn pores
The smiles of all those who are not with us.
In living minds,
In the blood of the banks
The excitement flickered with lights.
In a solar furious flame,
In the night silence of prophetic dreams
We see those who are not with us ...
They are tied with death,
Speech all said
In frozen ground - soft fluff.
What are we owed?
Hands are untied?
It soars in the clouds his spirit.
Above eternal disputes,
Above persuasion
And in doubtful words.
Above the faith of the supports,
For the blood of the spaces,
In the gray -haired blue clouds.
We were all different:
Green, red
Among the riot of errors and thoughts.
Learned perfectly
What became dangerous
To be Russian in homeland suddenly.
They looked - did not see.
Native residents
Here they began to create arbitrariness.
Did you offend someone?
Gray parents.
And in the morgue at the number table.
Will we swear?
Will we be afraid?
Will we divide ourselves even more?
Or maybe fight?
And do not give up?
And finally we will believe in yourself?
There are few of us and so
Who is not a trifle
That the guests have forgotten their status.
Someone under the flag
Someone in a fist
They put their palms.
And there, in the clouds,
In dawn pores
The smiles of all those who are not with us.
In living minds,
In the blood of the banks
The excitement flickered with lights.
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