The Bird That Is White

The bird that’s white, it doesn't cut the air,
Despite the wings, which are as free as ever.
I want to think it was a dream, I’ve heard,
You’ve caused the pain; will it remain forever?

I'll burn your letters in a greedy fire.
My heart should start to be so strong and icy,
You said you've met the only one desired.
I don't remember if I had an answer.

Your loving arms won't wrap around my shoulders,
Your loving eyes won't seek me in the crowd,
You’ll pass by me as if I am a boulder,
You will not think about me, no doubt.

You've got the stirrups for the horse to go.
The spurs are used to hurt the sides; well, do it!
I can't turn back the stubborn time, you know,
But I can kill my memories to suit.

My loving arms won't wrap around your shoulders,
My loving eyes won't seek you in the crowd,
I’ll pass by you as if you are a boulder,
I will not think about you, no doubt.

Русский текст: Елена Ваенга "Белая птица"