| Where Trumpet and Saigon met
|
| The link between times is broken.
|
| We read everything, we heard the ringing,
|
| We blew the rise.
|
| Who remained, waved their hand,
|
| And the squad jumped.
|
| It was an endless spring
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| They say they shot at us more than once,
|
| But we walked as one
|
| Without taking your rapturous eyes,
|
| From illumined heights.
|
| True, someone returned home,
|
| Someone just disappeared.
|
| It was an endless spring
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| The road to Tibet is straight,
|
| On the left is the sponsor, on the right is the lama,
|
| Lonely, lonely way.
|
| Past ancient Ixtlan
|
| From "Agdam" to button accordion
|
| Write to me, mom, somehow
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| Fires were burning along the sides,
|
| We hurried to the light.
|
| For the hundredth time then it seemed that we found our own Tibet.
|
| And for joy one more.
|
| Some sang, some slept.
|
| It was an endless spring
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| Where Trumpet and Saigon met
|
| There is no one else.
|
| Dirol is green there today,
|
| "Blendamed" bloomed there.
|
| And prophetic dreams have long been forgotten
|
| From the beginning
|
| That seemingly endless spring
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| The road to Tibet is straight,
|
| On the left is the sponsor, on the right is the lama,
|
| Lonely, lonely way.
|
| Past ancient Ixtlan
|
| From "Agdam" to button accordion
|
| Write to me, mom, somehow
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| Fires were burning along the sides,
|
| We hurried to the light.
|
| For the hundredth time then it seemed that we found our own Tibet.
|
| And for joy one more.
|
| Some sang, some slept.
|
| It was an endless spring
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| Where Trumpet and Saigon met
|
| There is no one else.
|
| Dirol is green there today,
|
| "Blendamed" bloomed there.
|
| And prophetic dreams have long been forgotten
|
| From the beginning
|
| That seemingly endless spring
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| The road to Tibet is straight,
|
| On the left is the sponsor, on the right is the lama,
|
| Lonely, lonely way.
|
| Past ancient Ixtlan
|
| From "Agdam" to button accordion
|
| Write to me, mom, somehow
|
| On the road to Nepal.
|
| The road to Tibet is straight,
|
| On the left is the sponsor, on the right is the lama,
|
| Lonely, lonely way.
|
| Past ancient Ixtlan
|
| From "Agdam" to button accordion
|
| Write to me, mom, somehow. |