Fields of Gold [Russian translation]

Autumn rains're getting cold,

And my heart's growing old,

Then I dream flying far into darkness,

As if I'm being called

To the fields of bright gold

By the one who brings light and who sparkles.

Who is he? What's his plan

For the rest of us, man?

Will he grant all the sinners salvation?

But the light of bright gold

Growing dim, turning cold,

As if all he's shown's just a temptation.

Where are you, fields of gold?

Fields of gold, fields of gold...

I'm so cold...