Вот опять окно,
Где опять не спят,
Может, пьют вино,
Может, так сидят.
Может, просто, рук
Не разнимут двое,
В каждом доме, друг,
Есть окно такое.
Не от сотен свеч,
Не от сотен ламп,
Темнота зажглась
От бессонных глаз.
Крик разлук и встреч —
Ты, окно в ночи,
Может, сотни свеч,
Может, три свечи.
Нет и нет уму
Моему покоя,
И в моем дому
Завелось такое.
Помолись, дружок
За бессонный дом.
За бессонный дом
За окно с огнем.
Вот опять окно,
Где опять не спят,
Может, пьют вино,
Может, так сидят.
Here's the window again,
Where they don't sleep again,
Perhaps they're drinking wine,
Perhaps they're just sitting there.
Perhaps it's just two people holding hands,
In every home, my friend,
There's a window like that.
Not from hundreds of candles,
Not from hundreds of lamps,
Darkness has lit up
From sleepless eyes.
A cry of separations and reunions—
You, window in the night,
Perhaps hundreds of candles,
Perhaps three candles.
There's no peace for my mind,
My mind has no peace,
And in my home,
This has become a thing.
Pray, my friend,
For the sleepless house.
For the sleepless house,
Behind the window with the fire.
Here's the window again,
Where they don't sleep again,
Perhaps they're drinking wine,
Perhaps they're just sitting there.
