So hazy, the smoke filled the room and the mirror is lazy
You can't see yourself or a face right in front
And fancy, the couples that twirled all the night tired of dancing
Yet I have to sing, have to finish the song
The melody's finished, the rest is jaded
The colors of fire in the wine are faded
The words I could say are no longer mine
I'd better just finish the glass of wine
All winter, the eyes of the sun never peek through the clouds
And frost overtakes every bit of my soul
It's pointless to wait for the ice to melt down
When even sweet memories can't beat the cold
The melody's finished, the rest is jaded
The colors of fire in the wine are faded
The words I could say are no longer mine
I'd better just finish the glass of wine
Band's playing, distractedly skipping and stumbling
I've looked for the end of the circle too long
I'll break it, yet I'll keep the cool and be smiling
Yet I have to sing, have to finish the song
The melody's finished, the rest is jaded
The colors of fire in the wine are faded
The mirror's indifference gives a sign
I'd better just finish the glass of wine
Or maybe just shatter this glass of mine?
(joint translation with Anna Mirny)
It rains again, and summer’s melting
As if it never were, it seems
In an empty park a flutist’s playing
And no one's listening to him
He's all alone, like in a meadow,
With flowers wet from morning dew
He's played so longingly and sadly
For how long, nobody knew
In a worn-out coat, an old flutist plays
A gentle flute he’s holding in his hands
Day’s already gone, shortly life will go
Like all leaves in autumn have to fall
Heaven is getting close and near
The flute is quiet, almost mute
“Good bye, forget,” you barely hear15
“I will forgive,” whispers the flute
One must be lonelier than ever
One must drink sorrow to the end
To come to gates that shut forever
And to stretch out a hopeful hand
In a worn-out coat, an old flutist plays
A gentle flute he’s holding in his hands
Day’s already gone, and so life will go
Like all leaves in autumn have to fall
Let me be direct and candid
Here with thee:
All is phantom, sherry-brandy,
Ma chérie.
Where the beautiful was shaping
The Greek mind,
Through black holes the shame is gaping
Onto mine.
While the Greeks wrenched out Helen
And escaped,
I was left in daily hell in
Sorry state.
And my lips are only kissing
Empty space,
Middle finger’s snake is hissing
At my face.
Why or where, au contraire –
All the same;
Angel Mary, drink you sherry
Wine in vain.
Let me be direct and candid
Here with thee:
All is phantom, sherry-brandy,
Ma chérie.