Осень, Мёртвые Дожди [Osen', Myortvye Dozhdi] [English translation]

Autumn, dead and dying rains,

Autumn, young approaching night frosts,

Frozen birch trees seem to be lost,

As they stump through Russian plains.

Autumn, drunken river flow

That has flooded country roadway,

Autumn, fear of deadly doomsday

On the old man you bestow.

Tatar face is my ordeal,

Though my last name is Ukrainian.

Why did I in drunken yearning

End up under driving wheel?

I am stabbed without a sword,

I am shot but not by bullet,

You have blown my candle out,

Autumn - furtive soul abhorred.

Drunken dregs fall from the skies,

Why do I repent before Him?

I believe the end is near,

In my veins quicksilver dries.

The poetic language bliss

Is a lightweight night chimera,

Love and Faith in my soul steer,

Rake the clouds, what did I miss?

Autumn, feeling old like rains,

Autumn, young approaching night frosts,

Frozen birch trees seem to be lost,

As they stump through Russian plains.