Библиотека Просперо - Не Демоны Поют... - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Not demons sing visionary songs; Only surround the heart with dry leaves, and a constant rustle is heard while it is alive. Not demons stretch the network over the desert so that the influence of the sky does not penetrate, but weightless creatures in monastic cloaks with alien, but vaguely familiar faces. He, a genius, took a staff, but died without being born, and the sun continues to be punished by this hard ancient tree. They tried to come to the bones, but crumbled with a jerk on ants, empty colorful inhabitants, cut off by a dry sharp wind. And the color will leave, it will be scattered around the worlds. Turn around, children, look into the mouth of the abyss.