| "I remember that cold winter port," a compilation of themes, mostly about Magadan Irat R. Feiskhanov I remember that cold winter port And the ships in the harbor, so grim, How we said our good-byes and our boat Watched the lights from the harbor grow dim. We stood in our boat in the fog, And the other men howled from the pitch, And one eye dropped one lonely tear, Though right now, I don't recall which. No songs, only one mournful shout, As they all stood hugged tight as dear brothers, Tore out from the chest of each man, "Good-bye, land of our wives and mothers!" And I know I promised to write But I know you won't read my letters From this land, all covered in white— I can't help but spit on the weather. I've been frozen for three months on end And I doubt I'll ever get warm But sometimes I remember your touch And I'm slightly less cold than before. But I'll write you a letter and you Can look at my scribbles and see How I miss you, and you'll understand, Though I know you don't know how to read. And when I return, I know, too, It won't be back to your warm embrace; You won't recognize me when you see me Even if you stare right at my face. Available on itunes: itunes.apple.com Contact: iratmusic@gmail.com Copyright (c) 2011 Irat Feiskhanov |
