Maybe God, or maybe just, this night smells of incense.
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And all around is a high forest, dark and mossy.
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Is it grace, or is it an ambush for us,
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Fun to the touch, but a draft in the soul.
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Here they come with images - with unfamiliar images,
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Let lamps shine for them from under the dark water,
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I don't remember how we got up, how we left the room,
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I just remember that we have to go to the warm star...
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Here stands the temple high, and darkness under the dome.
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All eyes looked through, but not a damn thing to be seen.
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I would put a candle, but all the candles are bought.
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I would light alcohol on my hand - but where can I get it?
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And all around there are snows on all four sides;
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It's easy to walk barefoot in the snow if the souls are clean.
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And we would be completely lost if it were not for wolves and ravens;
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They asked: “Where are you going? |
I suppose, to a warm star?
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They gilded crosses, stuck them wherever they hit;
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Yes, they exchanged one that was given for wine.
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And in the morning, with a hangover, we went to the river for water,
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And there, instead of water, there is Mongol Shuudan.
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And we wanted to give a cheerful sign to the angels,
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Yes, they lost sight of them, covering their tracks;
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So it would have happened to each according to his deeds,
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If not for the light of this pure star.
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So what should we do, how should we sing, if not for the sake of an empty hand?
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And if we don't sing, then burn in the void,
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And to sing and not finish singing - then the eagles will come for me,
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With white eyes, and on muddy water.
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Just let them go - I myself am a black bird,
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Look, I have nowhere to run: another meter - and ice,
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So I will cover you, and you me, wolves and crows,
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For someone to reach this pure star...
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So now with the darkness under the dome,
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What now with the fact that you can’t see a damn thing?
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What now with the fact that all the candles are bought,
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After all, if there is no fire, we know where to get it.
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Maybe it's true that there are no ways but the thorny one,
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And there are no hands for miracles, except for those that are clean,
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And still, only wolves and crows warmed us,
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And they blessed us to a pure star. |