Mater Dolorosa
Время Жатвы
Sorrowful Mother
The cold gets worse every year
The sun's hidden in a suffocating haze
And countless bones lie here
Buried deep in this ground
You’ve mourned every death
And now you dream of just one thing
To finish singing a lullaby
And drift off into a deep sleep
You dream of forests and fields
You dream of how early in spring
Your children reach for the sky
And touch the sun with their hands
That’s my Russia, it’s in the past!
Don’t try to fool yourself
In the cradle, a snake has curled
Crying out loud, demanding a breast
