Пушкина в переводе с отсылками
Behold, this is sudden death,
Now this age will draw its final breath,
Like an elder beast hunted down in snow.
To last bury all your hopes,
Live in fear, and bow to fools and popes,
Or refuse and drown in this rotten flow.
Black rainbow slop
Turns sea to bog
Acid falls, penetrating clouds of smog...
O, there is no more trust,
Hopes are ground to dust,
Neither love nor life left.
O, now the thunder claps,
Something wicked comes,
Ever hums the powerhouse.
Behold, nuclear phantom,
From the depth of sentience it is born:
Killing everything hellish rays unseen.
Our mind: motor for the vile.
Mourning days for dead who's not on file
Mechanism of blight and eternal sin.
Black rainbow slop
Turns sea to bog
Acid falls, penetrating clouds of smog...
O, there is no more trust,
Hopes are ground to dust,
Neither love nor life left.
O, now the thunder claps,
Something wicked comes,
Ever hums the powerhouse.
Behold, we are counting down,
And this time, perhaps we shall not drown
In the manifold of the time and space.
Farewell to those who bury hopes,
With their fears and silly living tropes,
We are here to win a survival race.