Between silence and speech action.
Between laugh and desperation.
Between fear and brave power,
Also dark and rainbow fire.
Russian dream is air-flows.
Holy snow and waving grasses.
Many miles of muddy roads
From the tired age that passes.
Hunger, knowledge of the feelings.
Flight of quiet angel beings.
Brazen cross a cause of killing.
Drink himself with load singing.
Russian dream is killing ground,
Full of lighter cherry flowers.
Ghost that puttering around.
And the grief at any hour.
The living soul with nameless fate.
At least with heathen, even saint.
Not knowing where the native home.
The Russian dream it is the one.
The living soul with nameless fate.
At least with pagan, even saint.
Not knowing where the native home.
The Russian dream it is the one.
It’s above the scream and reason.
More than lunacy of people.
Russian dream is love and treason.
Far enough to the church steeple.