Ей не нравится [то, что принимаю я] [Ej ne nravitsya [To, chto prinimaju ya]] [English translation]

She doesn't know how to live, she can't cope with being alone

She doesn't remember what her name sounds like in someone else's voice

She howls at the Moon like a child, scaring the packs of wild beasts

But she doesn't like what I take

Her softness is priceless, her purity a beacon to trains

Her love melts to a rainbow in the heavens, where there should be stars

She loves the fires of Carthago, the smell of the flames

But she doesn't like what I take

You ask yourself why the thoughtful gaze of those kids follows you when you pass by?

They know that he who is blind will be king in a house where the electricity bills aren't paid

In the gardens of the monastery, a flute can be heard over the sound of the bell

And on the fallen leaves, black and white, a word has been written already, "April"

I know where the brakes and the gas are, but I'll keep my hands off the steering wheel

After all, she doesn't like what I take.