What is there overhead in the pale blue distance?
There is a winged angel, there is an angel with a trumpet,
and in the angel's aspect there is a cloud!
So flowing, so distant,
like our past, like our 'later',
like the oldest home, like the future home,
or rather the coffin-home. How can one know
where the heavenly host is floating away,
by what winds it will be smashed?
That angel, who trumpets noiselessly,
that angel who is not an angel, but just
a thickening of the air, a lofty silence.
Translated by Richard McKane
(Michael Prihod'ko: music, guitar;
Galina Pukhova: singing, flute)