Призрачные кони [Prizrachnye koni] [English translation]

I can hear the phantom stallions, they are flying like thunder -

Manes whipping and lightning in their eyes,

North has spread the crawling gloom of nights above them,

East has caught on fire in pale, heat-less flame,

And West cries with dew, hiding away the last of light,

And South has spilled the blazing of crimson-red roses...

Oh, the futility of the reverie, the wish, of all hopes and dreams -

Thick clay is furrowed with the trail of sinister stallions.

My love, close your eyes, let your heart beat

Above mine, and let your hair fall in a wave upon my chest,

So that i could rest in it, if only for a moment, and take a breath of the quiet -

Far from those tangled manes and pounding hooves.