Текст песни Валентин Дубовской - Гость

Blurred blur of the moon ...
 Trees, dumb, silent ...
 He is from an unknown country -
 Gray-haired camisole and cloak to the toes.

 Blades of grass in dull silver
 Do not get away from his steps
 And don't cling to a cloak
 Spiky spikes of burdock.

 To the village from the night valleys
 An uninvited guest comes down.
 Steps coins at shop windows
 His exquisite cane.

 Walker late in the chest
 Will search for the cross:
 On the street you can hear footsteps
 However, the street is empty.

 The crucifix crashed into a fist
 But the mirage did not dissipate.
 Knocking louder, step closer
 And a whisper of "How much are you selling?"

 Leisurely weird guest
 Walking through the city at night
 Cat behind him
 He screams at many voices.

 At dawn they throw stars
 Ethereal hand movements
 And there, in the blackening distance,
 The measured tap of a cane will subside.