Красной рябиною

Red rowan spit on snow.
Coal branches in the clouds,
Tincture your eyes knocked spirit.
Hiding the body in the bag last match.
Hello, weapons of thine hand,
Gentle powder lips, howling chorus of bullets -
Attack heart desires from a nearby planet.
The sky will take a piece of glass. Foot
will move the car derailed.
Collect throw myself fallen star
To the foot of your days - in the mud.
Necklace flying birds
I hug your neck - feathers live ligature.

Dance the dance in the glow of burning the holy sky,
Dance the dance - the phenomenon of the living.
Dance the dance, unknotted simple melodies,
Dance the dance - the phenomenon of the living.

To lay our bed is hardly enough to matter,
From your hair will take billions of years -
Woven rolls waves.
A cracked bell in his hand shook tinkling words.
The air is full of you - to get your match:
Well, get down all those who desire full!
Red rowan spit on snow.
I dissolved the old light.
Dance, I pray thee, a handful of notes
On your forehead, my sunset lights.
It's not cool the city,
Hundreds of mad volts - fuete for those who do not sleep.

Dance ...