'Aquarium' - Wolves and crows.
Grebenshchikov's 'Russian Album' (1992) - IMHO, one of the best. And the most beloved. I like all the songs from it without exception, especially 'Nikita Ryazansky', 'Martlet', 'Empress' ...
Maybe God, or maybe just this night smells of incense.
And all around there is a tall forest, dark and mossy.
Either this is grace, or is it an ambush for us,
Fun to the touch, but a draft in the soul.
Here they come with images - with unfamiliar images,
Let the lamps shine for them from under the dark water,
I don't remember how we got up, how we left the room,
I just remember that we should go to a warm star ...
Here is a high temple, and darkness under the dome.
Have missed all the eyes, but not a damn thing to see.
I would light a candle, but all the candles have been bought.
I would light alcohol on my hand - but where can I get it?
And all around there are snows on all four sides;
It's easy on the snow barefoot, if the souls are pure.
And we would have disappeared altogether, if not for the wolves and crows;
They asked: 'Where are you going? Probably to a warm star?'
They put gold on the crosses, stuck them wherever they hit;
Yes, they exchanged for wine one that was given.
And in the morning, with a hangover, we went to the river on the water,
And there instead of water - Mongol Shuudan.
And we wanted to give a funny sign to the angels,
Yes, they lost sight of them, covering their tracks;
So it would come out to everyone according to his deeds,
If not for the light of this pure star.
So what can we do, how can we sing, if not for the sake of an empty hand?
And if we don't sing, then we burn in emptiness,
And to sing and not finish singing - then the eagles will come for me,
With white eyes, but in muddy water.
Just let them go - I myself am a black bird,
Look, I have nowhere to run: another meter - and ice,
So I will cover you, and you me, wolves and crows,
For someone to reach this pure star ...
So now with the darkness under the dome,
Now what if you can't see a damn thing?
Now what if all the candles are bought,
After all, if there is no fire, we know where to get it.
Maybe it's true that there are no paths, except for the one,
And there are no hands for miracles but those that are pure,
And all the same, only wolves and crows warmed us,
And blessed us to a pure star.