Chew the leaves... Frozen sum... The quiet rustle of an innocent hour. The lower trembling of winged thoughts І sivin is of unmarked color. Everything is mine, like Rankova imla, You will appear at once, like dew on the world. And that song that first sang, I’ll turn around to the song. To burn the clock, to hurt, It becomes clearer mittyu nathnennya. And the souls that have lost their hearts, The path is dedicated to holy revelations. And as the remaining motive fades away, To become a triumph in the dark... It's like a miracle to reach heaven, Let the spirit stick together until eternity.
