When the night falls down with a naked Moon,
When the cedars keep the sky, there’s a wood’s live tune,
Enisey just roars, filling the space, when the river feeds the descendants of race,
Monticules sleep there, in the snow erased, and the East runs red.
Where the winds play with cold, with passion they kiss the hills,
Where the time stands still above the Nav’s abyss, laying down the chord out of mounds,
The song of tribes will flow above the reality. I listen carefully to sounds.
Song of shamans, heritage of humanity, and fear in the look of slanting eyes.
I see sometimes, when the night falls down, when the fire embers are cold,
Though eyes closed, in a trance – faraway lands yet to be roamed.
(с) Лунная Лисёна
(c) translated by Maryna Tchianova
Шаманские сны - Лунная Лисёна - перевод на английс
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120080205359
Свидетельство о публикации №120080205359
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