The laughing children gaze at a shining fallen star,
The telescope's bombarded with ashes from a hearth.
The peasants, drinking vodka, all dance around the flame
They killed the astromancer,1 erased the witch's name.
Chorus:
And how could I
Gain some more time to survive,
Just to stretch out the high?
And how could I
Weave my new path with the threads
Of unthinkable life?
The holy books are burning, erasing magic words,
Their most important mysteries are wiped from off the earth.
The secrets cast to heaven their melancholy eyes;
They killed the astromancer, they broke the scoundrel's life.
Chorus
1. An older word for astronomer.