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Alienation's Verge - Summer's gust
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Alienation's Verge - Summer's gust - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео

You are not here. I don’t feel
By my glare. Run against the
warm dampness.
Having breathe
in moist
heaviness of
The thick june air.

I am
slowly moving …
Under the boring circumstances
allied
extents.
Hiding into the open
windows.
Running to the
mist of dreams.
Wandering in the sameness
the absence of thoughts.

If only the reality
will not
decay.
If only
the memory
wouldn't creep.
And tell that
you are not here.

Ты не рядом. Я ничего не чувствую
Взглядом. Натыкаясь на теплую сырость
Вдыхаю влажную тяжесть.
Густого июньского воздуха.
Медленно перемещаюсь.
В скучных условиях смежных объемов
Прячусь в открытые окна.
Убегаю в туманы снов.
Хожу в однородном безмыслии.
Чтоб только мир удержался.
Чтоб не подкралась память.
О том что ты не рядом…

I am like alive and pensive.
Creating voiceless letters to lost to nowhere.
Reflecting idly and dry.
What’s the essence of this time?
I am waiting for the endless longness.
And I can see not more than everything
not more than everything.

Hardening worn by the wind.
Seared, burnt out by the sun.
I'm fading filled of poison.
And by realize that you are not here.
You are not her. I Don’t Feel
By my glare. Run Against the
Warm Dampness.
HAVING BREATHE
In Moist
Heaviness of
The Thick June Air.

I am
Slowly Moving ...
Under The Boring Circumstances
Allied
Extents.
Hiding into the Open
Windows.
Running to the
Mist of Dreams.
Wandering in the Samence
The Absence of Thumbs.

IF Only The Reality
Will not
Decay.
IF Only
The Memory
Wouldn`t Creep.
And Tell that
You are not her.

You're not there. I do not feel anything
Look. Grunting to warm damp
I inhale the wet heaviness.
Dense June air.
I move slowly.
In boring conditions of adjacent volumes
I am hiding in open windows.
I run into the fogs of dreams.
I go in homogeneous thoughtlessness.
So that only the world will resist.
So that the memory does not crept.
About the fact that you are not near ...

I am Like Alive and Pensive.
Creating Voiceless Letters to Lost to nowher.
Reflecting Idly and Dry.
What’s The Essence of this Time?
I am Waiting for the Endless Longness.
And i cane not More than eventing
Not More than EVERYTHING.

Hardening Worn by the Wind.
SEARED, BURNT OUT BY THE SUN.
I'M Fading Filled of Poison.
And by realize that you are not her.

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