Небо звездное, руки августа На дороге машин- канетелица...

The sky is starry, the hands of August
 On the road machines kantetelitsa
 Carry drought and I happily
I know for sure, the weather will change.
 I look up where we live
 So calm, but damp, yes right
Well, from those who have no victory in the afternoon
I like the steppe breathe the wrong dream
I'm drought bucket full
Between the headlights foliage alive flame
I am small there, and everything around is huge
And do not care that no guns and no flag.
The starry sky, August heart
Look, prophesy flourishes
Body steppe my loneliness
There is no death, but you are always welcome.
 A new heart will blow over you
A new song is calling for itself
And consecrated by gray gods
I'm going to follow you like a holiday
The sky is starry, the hands of August
On the road cars blizzard
What shall we reap when the dust clears
Steppe is red as ink of Faust
The night is bright like circles from time
What I threw into the steppe tired
All roads grow from the crown
Unlucky but undeliverable
Waiting for a new century of white
Continuing, understanding,
That we are part of all unanswered
That we are the night of all expectations