Bulat Okudzhava
The eyes are the arch of the grey autumn sky...

The eyes are the arch of the grey autumn sky,
The sky that lost sparkle and froze.
And under its weight, bent and trampled I lie.
And that's how her love for me goes.

Farewell, no more mercy, it's all done and said.
Each day unmistakably shows
That passion is dead, that it's sunless ahead.
For that's how her love for me goes.

In silence and pride I would leave if I could.
I'd travel the pathway I chose.
But in the array, I'm a soldier for good.
Well, that's how her love for me goes.

Translated by Evgenia Sarkisyants