And no need to go with the crowds
…
The heathens ventured into my heart
Are you inhabitant who’s dwelling here?
And has been bristling with the trees
The truth still soothing only simple lads
…
Thine truth still dwelling over fields
Her heart breaks into smithereens
That’s why His Art inside my mind
The deepest abyss takes His Light
…
Past never come again
They went away forever
Sore heart still aches
And much-much pang of pain
…
Such freshness passed
Thru morning pure light
Whose heart had beaten?
Inside the ardent heart
…
In dreams I’m lying on the morning grass
I’ll wet with dew and resting at your feet
And makes incursions on His wild Heart
Thee will remit my aching pain and sins
…
A. Glukhov. A. Portrait. 2019. Kolobova's collection in St. Petersburg.
…
Light darkness making friends sometimes
Beside the mountain I’ve seen a lone path
Be quiet , music will be soothing me again
Too much endeavours done it but too late
…
Wars have been slaying many men
That’s why I want to be with you
And waiting happiness in desert
I’ll go from border to border in vain
…
Have I turned to ancient statue?
Let me take last breath!
Woe to my heart – woe to me
Much strange and dark dread
…
One Prince is ploughing over the sea
Wrung heart was filled with sorrow
Winds…winds dancing trough the breeze
There will be howling gale into dream
…
Sometimes I wanna rest in coffin