Nadezhda

No strength left, no feeling of pain
Soul eaten by grief, such as by larva of moth
Everything's driven into an abyss, not for the first time
Friendly words don't mean a thing
Everything's given, lost or sold to someone
And the bleeding heart is served for dinner
There's only dirt left in the dept of your pockets
And some kind of feeling, something like hope

She hears footsteps, fading and fading
He's become a crane again, and will live somewhere above
No more waiting for him, she forgave and she's crying
And her stupid friend feeds her hope in vain
Time fades away and naive lie
Measures its knife to its left wrist
Hope was, and always vain it remains
A sticky red liquid, spilling drops on the ground

You're primordially alone, even if a friend is there
He won't see all the trouble on the palm of your hands
He won't be brave for you, if you're struck dumb
And won't be able to say, the words you intended
He can only help, if something's not right
When an endless darkness covers your eyes
When tears divide your face in three equal parts
And there's no hope left for yourself
Hope is a self-delusion, but it's all that we've got
From hand to hand it goes, selling its honor
That lying creature, throws dust in your eyes
Disappearing at the moment when it's needed the most
Go away and come back, it will many times
Always keeping the cherished diamond at a distance
Without hope I am killed, shot through by grief
Because I was hoping; I wasn't certain