(Ïðîïàñòü (Êðàé áåñêîíå÷íîñòè))
Billions of the silvery grains
On the bottom of the black ocean
Their infinity is but a vague intellect
An abyss is his hands. far from the house of black souls
To fly and grasp the eternity. night, as a d**h of the flesh
Poison s**ing the liquids of life
Black flame in the veins, crushed in the dead ravines
Nebular horizon would spread its wings
Burnt feathers would fall out as a blackest rain
Fly high, the bird of d**h and beginning of the new stars