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Алла Пугачева ~ Монолог/Реквием ~ Уж сколько их упало в эту бездну...

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Oh, how many’ve fallen into that void, Wide open far away! The day shall come, when I descend destroyed From Life into the clay. All that will freeze, which fought and which was singing, And shining in the air: And my green eyes, and kind voice, which was ringing, The gold of wavy hair. And life will be with its dull daily stale bread And vagueness of the day. And all will live – as if I’ve always been dead – The skies will not turn gray! So volatile – like kids – in each expression, And angry in a flash, I loved to watch wood fire in obsession – Formation of the ash, A cello, and processions in a forest, And village church bells, and Me, being so alive and earnest On this good-natured land! To all of you – from me, not knowing measures, Folks, sent me from above, I’m pleading that in faith you’ll find your treasures, And begging for your love. All days and nights, with my voice and impression: For the truth of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, Because so often – I am in depression At twenty years old. For that my predetermined destination – Forgiveness of the wrongs, And for my true and unrestrained affection, And pride I’ve shown for long, For the rapidity of swift occasions, The truth, and for the play … — Oh, Listen! – Also love me with your patience For I will pass away.

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