| The moon is taken out of its scabbard,
|
| The stars are sharp to the point of pain,
|
| Wormwood whispers her name,
|
| Bitterness in the open field,
|
| No one sees my wound
|
| From the throat to the collarbone,
|
| This is the love of a gypsy
|
| Blood oozes into the grass.
|
| We pay a high price
|
| With its age-old longing,
|
| Hot veins are crying
|
| silver string,
|
| And all because the fogs
|
| In the steppe they don’t marry me with her,
|
| If I die, mom
|
| Then let her not know.
|
| Chorus:
|
| I can't live without your love,
|
| And love, like a moment is short.
|
| I don't need to drink bitter
|
| If life isn't sweet anyway.
|
| Take me away like a crow
|
| Even to the ends of the earth, even over the edge,
|
| Maybe there the pain of the heart will go away,
|
| And the soul will drive away sadness.
|
| The road ran far
|
| Under the feet of a black horse,
|
| Over the river the owl sobbed
|
| And the shore bent like a horseshoe.
|
| Dawn dropped like a bride
|
| Dew on a distant hillock,
|
| I had no place in that world,
|
| And the blood dried up in a crust.
|
| Chorus:
|
| I can't live without your love,
|
| And love, like a moment is short.
|
| I don't need to drink bitter
|
| If life isn't sweet anyway.
|
| Take me away like a crow
|
| Even to the ends of the earth, even over the edge,
|
| Maybe there the pain of the heart will go away,
|
| And the soul will drive away sadness. |