Down to cities, to cars, to the life, dull and bleak We are getting ahead - as if losing the goals... But we always come back from the mountain peak Which we conquered and where we left our souls. Drop your disputes of no account - Iíve proved all to myself and can bet: Better than all the mounts is the Mount, Which nobody has mounted yet! So many a hope, so many a song Mountains rouse in us, begging us not to go, But we always come back - for a break or for long Since we have to return - itís a must to do so. Drop your disputes of no account - Iíve proved all to myself and can bet: Better than all the mounts is the Mount, Which nobody has mounted yet! Who would want to remain all alone in a fix? Who would want to ignore his heartís call, soft and tender? But we always come back from the mountain peaks - Even gods from the mountains sometimes descended... Drop your disputes of no account - Iíve proved all to myself and can bet: Better than all the mounts is the Mount, Which nobody has mounted yet!
© George Tokarev. Translation, 2001
Edited by Robert Titterton