Snow is white ice is grey
  On the broken with fissures soil
  Like a patchwork quilt lies on it
  City rounded by road's coil
  And above there're running clouds
  Which are hiding the light of sky
  And above there's yellow smoke
  City has grown old by
  Two thousand years under lights of the star which we call Sun
  
  And two thousand years war goes on
  No one knows what is the wage / OR: No one knows because of what
  The war is the business of youth
  The cure against the old age / OR: The medicine against growing old
  Here we can see the red blood
  After hour it absorbs into ground
  After two there're flowers and grass
  After three it's rebirthing at once
  And is caressed and warmed by the rays of the star which we call Sun
  
  And we know it will continue for years
  That the man who is loved by fate
  Lives according to other laws
  And the date of his death won't be late
  He can't remember the words YES and NO
  He remembers neither ranks nor names
  He can reach the far-away stars
  Not concerning it to be a dream
  And to fall down dead-burnt by heat of the star which we call Sun