Воет - сущность ночи...
Черная, как головешка...
Как кусок смолы, как ложка
Космоса холодного очень...
Космоса бесконечного, без времени...
Воет: А-а-а-а-м-м-м-ы-ы!....
Больно! Там - внутри точка горя...
Сущность ночи - слез море...
Она - порождение Тьмы.
Холод безвестного - обжигает...
Сжимает радость нового дня...
Сущность ночи - пугает
До самой сущности меня...
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The creature of night - is howling...
It is as black as a brand, as a coal,
As a piece of pitch, as a spoon of cosmos,
Of the eternity, rather-, super- cold...
Of the space endless, without time...
It is howling:Aaaaauuuummmyyy...
How painful! There inside - the point of trouble,
The point of woe, of grief...
The creature of night - causes tears,
The ocean of tears...
It was born by the Darkness...
Its coldness is burning...
It comresses the new day, its pleasure...
The creature of night - is scaring,
Is frightening me to my core, to my soul...