Ненависть, Неверие, Надежда | страница 7

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Yet all of us considered thinkers.

Oh man, it's common to believe

That death is the eternal grief,

That life is such an endless race

With wildly rising-dropping pace,

That one should never be alone,

That happy days already gone,

And world will never be all right -

Cause all the others aren't bright.

And it's all known we possess

The right to make some constant mess,

We call it "freedom" by the way...

That inborn right to fray and pray.

I just won't say that these are wrongs …

The hundred times it's sung in songs,

The thousand times it's told by lives

Of common folk who were just wise.

I cannot say that they were right,

For modern us they don't seem bright,

Still they did not posses believes

That are the source of endless grief.

The one I call the truly wise

Is that who has no prejudice,

The one who has the clear sight,

For only he will make things right.

One day you'll act as you see fit

And thus refuse some other's bid

To make it way it ought to be,

And once you've made it - you are free.

Гнев

My wrath is stronger than the will,

The wrath is only what I feel

And I will tear those apart

Who dare mock my bleeding heart !

Move off my way, you jackal’s sons !

I'll smash your faces, laughing ones

And I will teach you how to play

With love and heart, with dream and pray !

You'll dare not to say it so

Or soon you shall be ones in row,

Or soon you'll play your final part

And rest in peace in the graveyard !

I will bury those ones in tombs,

Who dare be those dumbest lambs

And will continue to persist

In making this all-tortures feast !

My wrath is stronger than you all !

I may go down, I may fall,

But I shall see you've paid your price

With own pain without size !

I am no victim and no serf

And for the kindness I won't starve,

I will bury it from you all,

You jackals soon will pay your toll !

The wrath, my wrath, it does descend,

It is so hot ... like desert sand,

And it's the desert in myself …

I'm long too thirsty and do starve.

But I won't drink my own tears,

I'll throw away those fucked fears,

I may be mad, I may be ill ...

Move off my way - for I will kill !

Еще один

There were many, and were few,

And each of them was somewhat new,

Yet each was but another mew …

So soon away I always flew.

And I can't help but to forget

How meeting each I was so glad,

And how I then buried my hope...

This endless quest will never stop.

I was afraid to be alone,

But long ago those fears gone.

You know the bright sight of the thing?

This search for you gave me one wing.

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