Текст песни Черная Лютня - Трава разлуки

Gold mine - brittle leaves in the wind,
My money - like a dewdrop fire ...
Blood from the face of the wind erase fine hand :
Tomorrow will not come -
    only grass separation is high.

Gold mine - yes feather dry grass ,
My money is exchanged for steel and pain;
Strings do not ring - wind beats in the sky ...
Do not disturb me -
    only hand I close my eyes .

Split the armor - to make it easier to breathe to me:
Sin is small - in the battle not to pity ;
Of flowers and stars do not have to weave a wreath -
On the Trail of Tears
    only grass separation is high.

Heather on the plain , but the mountains - as a bitter ice
Can not find the valley where the grass grows meeting ...
Where to find me the strength to go back through the centuries ,
To you - forgive ? ..
    A grass separation is high.

Rustle brittle icicles , leaves rustle words whether ,
Is crying in the valley of homeless soul -
Black sea of poppies , but not my flower :
Yes only wormwood bitter ,
    yes grass separation high ...