I'm not more than a stranger Neither this place or that
Whole my life on the flowers endlessly I tread
I am carrying stones in unladened hands
I am writing my name on untrustworthy sand
On the edge of the stream

May be it's just a karma may be it's all lie 
But when rain starts a-falling who can see the blue sky
I don't know what is urgent I see no harm or hint
When the bare little feet do not leave any print
On untrustworthy sand

What if brother of mine recognizes me not
If no fire where he's at now and no ice has he got
Where the wind blows and heaven holds the stars in its hands
He will not leave a footprint on untrustworthy sand
On the edge of the stream

I'm not more than a stranger Neither this place or that
Whole my life on the flowers endlessly I tread
I am carrying stones in unladened hands
I am writing my name on untrustworthy sand
On the edge of the stream

{1993}
Translation (c) Stepan M. Pechkin 1993
Last-modified: Fri, 02 May 1997 13:23:43 GMT