Black Lines

Bear hunt is a task for real men Brave enough to challenge such a formidable beast Several men are needed, one will never succeed Telepathy is a gift from gods and mother nature The forest is growing thicker, the leaves - heavier Close your eyes and the branches come alive, the air grows darker With the aid of foreign gods through ice on Vychegda a tear flows The water element changes its bed, time for me to open my eyes. A magic impulse midst traditional forms: Fleece, shamans and the rhythm of creation The source of thought can be determined Only if depths of consciousness are fathomed Repeat one phrase: scars heals So hard to keep going through thorns and not looking back Imagine this though: paints come alive So dreadfully cold Create, never hesitate Yet the forest is growing thicker and the leaves - ever so heavy Close your eyes and the branches come alive, the air grows darker With the aid of foreign gods through ice on Vychegda a tear flows The water element changes its bed, time for me to open my eyes.