If a glass of milk Nature bestows upon me
Glass of milk from mysterious stars
As a riverband free
I will surely keep
My intelligence level at par
I will roll out a sizable bed on a field
I"ll invite there each horse to lie down
And with white hair, a beard,
And a flute I"ll run free
And nobody will tell me that I am a clown
And when finally Death on my bed will descend
Silently next to me she"ll lie down
She will say it once more and again and again
And my joy will not know any bounds
Don"t you, angels, be turning and twisting my tail
Hope, from heaven this won"t get me barred
Someone should realize depth in beauty and scale
Moscow"s domes to mysterious stars
