Lyrics N. Gumilev
Music A. Balchev
With the same anguish my days flash past,
Monotonous/dreary as they were,
As if roses are dropping their petals,
And nightingales are dying.
And she is also sorrowful,
The Love that has guided me
And envenomed blood
Runs under her satin-like skin.
And if I am in this world,
It is for the only dream I have,
That we both, like blind children,
Will go to the mountain ridge
There, where there are only reveries,
In the world of the whitest clouds,
To seek for faded roses,
And listen to the dead nightingales.