Текст песни Виктор Череповский - Диане Гамидовой - Уильям Шекспир, cонет 50

How hard me vzmetaya dust on the road ,
Not expecting anything more ,
Is counted dull , how many miles
I pulled away from his happiness.
Tired horse , forgetting their former zeal ,
As soon trotting lazily beneath me -
As if aware : there is no need to rush
Those who separated from the native soul .
Master's spurs he does not listen
Only neighing sends me a reproach .
My painful wounds that moan
The poor horse - strikes Spurs .
I think with longing gazing into the distance :
For me - the joy ahead - sadness .

Translation by S. Marshak