As the people's great friend, time and time I am looking right at you;
Like disarming a bomb, with my heart I sense strings strained at hand—
And in palace of fate the incredible master Lukyanov
Builds my manor so that a window looks over your land.
If a sailor I'd be, I would sail off on you like on oceans;
In an alien port, in a tavern my clogs I would pawn,
But the nations they cry, and nobody will help their commotion—
If it weren't but for you, with a comforting branch in your palm.
Live in the dark, wait to discover;
Who's there below—and glass shows only night.
O, fortune mine, you are one and there is no another;
Lived poorly we—enough then; now we'll live in light.
On the crane clock's veneer there lights up the inscription "Departures,"
From a wing to a wing silence to shred on command;
Only who—I won't tell—a new labour's beginning to nurture,
Is now turning to glow, from a window looks over your land.
In evening glow, from a window looks over your land.