purplecatbone

[purplecatbone]

She doesn't know that it's just dreams

I saw rain, although it might've been snow,

But I was embarassed, and couldn't open my eyes before morning.

One more moment - and the one holding the threads will be visible;

But the stairs go upwards and twist endlessly -

It's our fault.

There are always lots of correct words in books,

But every night I see everything as if for the first time.

Noone can lead me out of this maze of railings;

But she who looks at me from the darkness of the stairwell

Has never heard of wings,

She doesn't know that it's just dreams.

My every step is as calculated as yours.

And that alone is a reason not to trust words.

My every letter is read here as well as there;

But I want to tell you, and even if you don't believe me,

Know it's true -

She doesn't know that it's just dreams.

B. Grebenshikov (in russian)

[purplecatbone]

None of us

I see stormclouds, or maybe I see smoke.

While there was sun, I thought I sang, I thought I lived.

But is it really that important what else you want?

Since none of us will get out of here alive.

I breathe easier during a thunderstorm - that's a fact.

Do not fear thunder, it always catches the rythm.

The flowers I gave you will last till morning,

But none of us will get out of here alive.

Any house is fragile when there is steel in the sky.

I wanted to finish singing, but if not, I'm not sorry.

I've built so many walls, there was so much I wanted to preserve,

But none of us will get out of here alive.

B. Grebenshikov (in russian)

[purplecatbone]

Cad Goddau (The Battle of the Trees)

I was a glowing wind,

I was a flight of an arrow,

I followed a trail of a deer

Among the tall trees.

I remembered that except the seven

Noone left the house

Of her who brings rain.

Oak branches guard us,

Hazel will be our judge.

Blood of reed on the sand -

It's a great secret.

Who remembers about is?

He who comes silently

And she who brings rain.

Only in silence the word,

Only in dark the light,

Only in dying life:

Bright the hawk's flight.

On the empty sky. 

I know the name of the star,

I'll be the word of answer

To her who brings rain.

B. Grebenshikov (in russian)

[purplecatbone]

The only home (Jah will give us everything)

Here is my blood;

Here is what I sing.

What else can I do?

A little bit of roof,

Bread and wine and tea.

When I'm with you

You are my only home.

What else can I do?

Jah will give us everything,

We have no more problems.

When I'm with you

You are my only home.

What else can I do?..

B. Grebenshikov (in russian)

[purplecatbone]

The second glass miracle

When you were small you knew what you knew

And the dogs couldn't pick up your trail.

Now you are exposed, you have thrown your shield away,

You don't remember who is right and who is blind.

You hung a bullseye on your chest,

All it takes is to pull the bowstring.

You are a walking target,

You are sure that your way is true.

And those who aren't asleep don't need your garden,

There are neither flowers nor stones there.

And even your god didn't help anyone,

There are others lighter and stronger.

That's why you are in a void.

Like on an old forgotten canvas:

Not at the beginning, not at the center,

Not even at the very end.

B. Grebenshikov (in russian)

[purplecatbone]

Angel

I am bound to her

With a chain of unknown length.

We sleep in the same bed

On different sides of the wall.

And everything is perfectly clear,

But what does it matter to heavens?

Everyone will die the death

They invent for themselves.

She has her own demons

And her own nightingales behind her back.

And every one of them was a reason

Why she wasn't with me.

But under the slow gaze of the ikons,

In the heart damp from the rain

I understood that I am not guilty

And that means I am no judge.

So make me an angel

And I will give you the sky.

Show me happyness

And I will show you death.

Tell me about the miracle

Of escape from this prison

And I will say that what we have

Would be enough for those greater than us.

I am bound to her

With a chain of unknown length,

I am bound to her with religion,

The religion of love and war.

And the sky is getting nearer,

So near that eyes hurt.

But in the end everyone will die the death

They invent for themselves.

B. Grebenshikov (in russian)

[purplecatbone]

Sky is getting closer

Each of us knew

That we could be late again and again,

And still get to the victory in time.

And everyone knew we should take our places,

But in the code of honor it was considered important

Not to show up for your lesson.

And only when someone stepped forward,

And over hundreds of years noone remembered him,

I realized - the sky

Is getting closer

Every day...

We said our goodbys then, on the corner of all streets,

Honestly forgetting that someone was watching us.

All the paths began at our doors,

But we just went out for some cigarettes.

And there was a long night ahead of us,

And I was sure we would never fall asleep.

But do you know, the sky

Is getting closer

Every day...

My sister, where were you looking when the dawn

Stood between us like a wall?

When you took my hand, did you know

That it would happen to me?

And you can go back or forth,

You can rise, fall and rise again like a star.

But ash of your cigarettes is ash of empires,

And it could happen to you.

But voices of the gods who believe in you

Still sound, even though you are slow to rise.

But do you know, the sky

Is getting closer

You hear, the sky

Is getting closer

Look, the sky

Is getting closer

Every day...

B. Grebenshikov (in russian)

[purplecatbone]

Swan steel

Take the ash in your hands, take the ice.

It can be chance, it can be home.

But here is your pain, so let it become a wing.

Swan steel in the clouds still awaits.

I've always been alone. That's the right of an arrow.

But noone can be alone, even if they win.

Let our eyecolor be unreliable like ice in march,

But we will be like dreams, and then the dreams will be lighter.

So take clover in your hands, take honey.

Let the hunt flying after you grow like a shadow.

We have lived through the night, so let's see what the day looks like.

Swan steel in the clouds awaits.

B. Grebenshikov (originally)

[purplecatbone]

Dreams of something more

One febrary morning, I go outsode too early,

The previous evening remains murky;

In the end, why think about it?

There will always be someone to tell me everything.

A handful of pearls in the palm-

That's the path I will keep secret.

Thank you for this gift-

The ability to sleep and dream;

Dream of something more.

When comes the time for excuses,

What will I tell you?

That I didn't see any reason to do it badly,

And I didn't see any chance to make it better.

Maybe something went by me,

And I don't know how to speak about it.

There's a reason why all the mirrors in the house are clay,

So that in the morning you can't see in the eyes

Dreams of something more.

B. Grebenshikov (originally)

[purplecatbone]

Moving forward

Moving forward,

How frightening it is to move forward.

You build a house, it feels too small,

There is wet snow outside.

Wind and moon, apricot flowers,

Such tart sweetness.

Wind and moon, it's the same all the time,

And I want to take a step forward.

She was born in the grass, killed with a sword,

We think it matters.

And someone laughs, looking from the other side -

Yes, it's the master of illusions.

Smple words, foreign connections -

Such a reliable method!

And I write songs, always the same,

And I want to take a step forward.

Sometimes it's strange,

Sometimes it's bigger than me;

And I can't say

How it forces me,

Asks me

To move forward.

How frightening it is to move forward.

But I still remember this place

When it wasn't crowded.

I leave these flowers

For those who come later.

Let you be at peace

While you don't want

To take a step forward...

B. Grebenshikov (originally)

[purplecatbone]

Guest

I don't think we'll get far,

Looks like we're locked in here.

Everyone has their town and home

And we're caught in this net.

And where I sang you are no more than a guest,

Even though I sang for them.

But we will become what they think we are,

You will return home,

And so will I,

And everyone will get theirs.

And really, why do we need us?

The day is already not enough

To have time for everyone

Who wants you and me.

And only when I sing

Among strangers' looks and smoke,

I know who will stand before me

And force me,

And order me,

To stay alive one more time.

B. Grebenshikov (in russian)