At night the rain was weeping slightly
By drawing water on the glass.
And everyone's remembered lightly.
But why, we don't need anything at all for us.

Why bother the cooled ashes
When the supply is long since wet.
And I don't care, not as much as
All my mind's thoughts I forget.

I will go forth, I'll go uncovered,
I hope to meet a saint on my run.
Horizon led away the cloud,
Will bring the fire-colour of the sun.

Original words: Mad Max
Russo-English translation: Georgiy Sergeyevich Nickatchov