But no people, deserted beach.
Call that one listens to the mushrooms,
Beds, lonely ridge,
Frowning eyebrows-blocks.
He remembers the noise of the fun days.
Transparent waves game.
And this sandy beach.
A crowd of people and day dawn.
When the sparkling star
The sun’s ray in the waves fell.
And sprinkling a golden spark,
In the abyss has become.
But the proud sun has risen.
Waved from a height
Spreading a bright wing,
Frozen in the beauty of beauty.
And the brave ray has reached the bottom.
He lit the sand.
In the radiance of gold, flashing,
And the sun for a captive.
But remembers Ridge another sunrise.
In the black oil slime beach.
And there is no longer clear waters,
And in the waves of muddies swash.
I see mountains of green beauty
I see mountains of green beauty.
Motley wild rose bushes,
He broke the tent under the height,
And the blackthorn has grown nearby.
Crevice notch wrinkles,
Gorges mountain blue.
Weave the face of gray peaks
In the elemental current of anger.
In the unrestrained snatch of the swamps.
And in the explosion cataclysm,
Formed a chain of vertices
And the clouds above them are mane.
Shining hats of snow,
The magnificence of the rock,
Ridge above the steeper shores
In a smile, escallop shines.
Here the sea is splashing at the feet
Gray ancient Caucasus.
Here a threshold for himself he created
At the entrance to the harbor immediately.
And the approaches to the steep mountains
For power hid the boulders.
They, going down to the shores,
Bite the sea swell.
As a guard stands gray Caucasus
