Невесёлая песня [Neveselaja pesnja] [English translation]

Our rivers are poor of water,

In our windows is not seen day,

Our morning is like night,

Well, and night for me is...

Looking in the liquid mirror of puddles,

At clocks that have sat for half a century,

At a flag that's been kissed to tatters,

I'd give half a kingdom for a horse.

Play, my sad song.

Play... Play...

Commanders of the Army of the Years,

We took losses in battle day by day,

And when we fueled the fire,

Our fire was put out by the rain.

We sit by broken washtubs

And divine on the rose of the winds,

And when the time comes to stand up,

We sit, we wait.

Play, my sad song.

Play... Play...