The road winds like a torch in the dark all the time through life
|
You dream so often and I have enough roads in this life,
|
And there are simply no easy roads, and there are no easy roads
|
And everyone carries his own cross and chooses his own path.
|
Someone is dear - a stage to the north, east or further
|
For someone to leave is a trifle, for someone to return early,
|
And someone runs from fate the road like hugging a mother,
|
The roads of war are burning, burning down with a wax candle.
|
Chorus:
|
Roads, roads, roads turn blue in the distance of the city
|
Platforms, platforms, platforms, you can't go anywhere
|
Roads, roads, roads you get drunk from the sound of wheels
|
And in the window you see either a river, or a field, or the cry of lonely birches.
|
And in the window you see either a river, or a field, or the cry of lonely birches.
|
Faith has one road and it leads everyone to the temple,
|
For some, prison is dear, for others, freedom and freedom.
|
And there are simply no easy roads, and there are no easy roads
|
And everyone carries his own cross and chooses his own path.
|
Chorus:
|
Roads, roads, roads turn blue in the distance of the city
|
Platforms, platforms, platforms, you can't go anywhere
|
Roads, roads, roads you get drunk from the sound of wheels
|
And in the window you see either a river, or a field, or the cry of lonely birches.
|
And in the window you see either a river, or a field, or the cry of lonely birches.
|
Roads, roads, roads turn blue in the distance of the city
|
Platforms, platforms, platforms, you can't go anywhere
|
Roads, roads, roads you get drunk from the sound of wheels
|
And in the window you see either a river, or a field, or the cry of lonely birches.
|
And in the window you see either a river, or a field, or the cry of lonely birches. |