%title From the Russian mart
%date 2008-06-11 02:36:32
:diary:livejournal:fossils:

O, on the Volga walks the lonely beggar,
Walks the Heavenly wanderer of the plains,
The Lord shows him his fist,
But to him it's all laughter--in the fist there is cocaine.
And down the Volga--a Golden Hoard,
And up the Volga--women look on the shore.
O, the well water--water of life,
Take my blood, o great snows,
How the winter made peace, with iron and cold,
It brought peace, but then turned into Spring.
How the snow will melt, oh what will be then,
And whne the ice moves, oh what will be with me...
And it is just the Volga flooding, not teh World Flood,
Or maybe the Lord is covering his tracks,
But I no longer care--I am almost ready,
Ready to sing to you from under the water;
And from under the water, sing the churchbells,
And from under the wall, blinding light.
Take away my sins, with your wing,
Take away my sins--why are you quiet?
So burn, you Seraph, golden winged-
Burn, don't be ashamed, be a guiding star.
I don't care--I lost the reins,
And there is no more paths, only with you.
So this is our life--Either there, or Here,
Either in teh field, death, or in your head, Savior.
I left so I could walk to the beginning of things,
But I drank and I fell--this is the whole book.
And teh ravens are quiet, and the ladies scream,
Either as dark wolves, or as liht sisters...
Either saving famine, or a saving poison,
Can you hear me, I knock--open up!
So give us to angels, or count us beasts,
Just don't be quiet, I cannot live without fire.
And,m wherever I walk, I knock at your doors,
So, Lord of mine, save me!

- Aquarium