Пентакль [Pentangle] [English translation]

Are not you feeling good... um..

Are not you feeling good... um..

You are feeling good, are you not?

When you melt like candle wax

With precisely drawn pentangle

On your shoulder: burning tracks.

With green blood of sacred grasses

Rub the torrid cloth of skin,

Let it burn without ashes,

Let it sizzle from within.

Are not you feeling good... um..

Are not you feeling good... um..

Like a bed of gracile bride is

Bond of ignominious streets,

Why do you feel so constricted,

Does the Earth lack space you need?

Just to be a speechless witness

Of the endless theatre play,

And with weaved pentangle lacing

Be enchanted stray.

Either languishing or laughing,

Or he's larking on the edge.

If your life ends up in tatters,

New one will be sewn, I pledge.

[If your life ends up in tatters,

I shall sew new one, I pledge.]*

Are not you feeling good... um..

Are not you feeling good... um..

Everything again will come back

Unexpectedly, as dreams,

Just as golden wheel on its track

Makes three rounds - so it seems.

Are not you feeling good...

Are not you feeling good...