How many years have passed since
As a boy, before going to sleep,
I listened to the quiet picking of strings
And your soft voice, like the whisper of waves
Through the roar of stormy waters
Through the stillness of lakes
Through the years, unnoticed, my raft was carried
By your B minor, unassuming but my own
Along the crests of nylon-and-steel waves
Past cliffs of imperfect rhymes
Where every splash is like a line of a score
You steered me, an unseen helmsman
And I so wanted to believe with all my soul
That the song would go on sounding
As long as the river flows
Along the crests of nylon-and-steel waves
Past cliffs of imperfect rhymes
Where every splash is like a line of a score
You crossed the
«Порог» is both a river’s rapids and a threshold.
alone,
And, bitterest of all, I never managed
To say in time
That you are the river