In the very center of the Golden-domed, breaking the heels
|
There was a rumpled slut, scoring the Ministry of Health
|
And she smoked a cigarette, and thumped from her throat:
|
It was close to dinner for those who have business
|
Spring Petrovka, deceptive warmth
|
In some spray windbreaker - probably this is wine
|
In shiny sun-shiny glass showcases
|
She's in the shit - and for a long time
|
Someone in Cartier is looking for a necklace for a woman
|
From the Marriott, a porter is dragging luggage after someone
|
All this is further from her than from Jules Verne - Depardieu
|
Like she's twenty thousand leagues deep
|
Hurrying Muscovites, blind eyes
|
A tear pulled out from under the glasses a black lump on the cheek.
|
Outside the Gucci store, looking at the logo
|
She suddenly began to sing loudly, breaking into a drunken wheeze:
|
“Geese, take me to Mogilev
|
Like Niels in Selma Lagerlöf's fairy tale
|
Take me from Moscow City, yeah
|
To our street in three houses
|
Where everything is simple and familiar, for a day"
|
In the lights of the big city
|
Burnt, like a coal in the darkness of a cigarette butt
|
The moth prays: “Well, please
|
Geese, take me to Mogilev
|
Like Niels in Selma Lagerlöf's fairy tale
|
Take me from Moscow City, yeah
|
To our street in three houses
|
Where everything is simple and familiar, for a day"
|
In the lights of the big city
|
Burnt, like a coal in the darkness of a cigarette butt
|
The moth prays: "Well, please"
|
Let the Ostankino syringe search for a vein in the gray sky
|
Let the sun dim kropalek burn through the foil
|
Let millions of buried faces in the phones
|
From below, something is being destroyed on the run
|
Shining cowards all over Moscow like celebrities
|
I'll take to the sky with you, swan geese
|
I will fly in your beaks over all posts
|
Putting all the DPS officers along the Minka on their ears
|
And the older brother will return, leaving taxi in Warsaw
|
And the grandmother will fry potato pancakes for her beloved grandchildren
|
We told her about how we lived there, we’ll lie from three boxes
|
And we will never leave the city
|
“Geese, take me to Mogilev
|
Like Niels in Selma Lagerlöf's fairy tale
|
Take me from Moscow City, yeah
|
To our street in three houses
|
Where everything is simple and familiar, forever
|
I'd rather crash on the road than come back here
|
Well, please, I beg you, geese."
|
“Geese, take me to Mogilev
|
Like Niels in Selma Lagerlöf's fairy tale
|
Take me from Moscow City, yeah
|
To our street in three houses
|
Where everything is simple and familiar, forever
|
I'd rather crash on the road than come back here
|
Well, please, I beg you, geese." |