Courage: Great Russian word, fit for the songs of our children's children, pure on their tongues, and free.

It was a time when only the dead smiled, happy in their peace.

Courage: Great Russian word, fit for the songs of our children's children, pure on their tongues, and free.

The celebrations Of secret nonmeetings are empty, Unspoken conversations, Unuttered words. Glances that don't intersect Don't know where to come to rest. And only the tears rejoice Because they can flow and flow. Sweetbrier around Moscow, Alas! Somehow it is here ... And all this they will call Love eternal.

Who will grieve for this woman? Does she not seem too insignificant for our concern? Yet in my heart I never will deny her, Who suffered death because she chose to turn.

Your voice is wild and simple. You are untranslatable Into any one tongue.

Rising from the past, my shadow Is running in silence to meet me.