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Yangtze in the Fog


by Boris Grebenshikov

Yangtze in the fog

Yangtze in the fog

It smells like a fur

Of the heavenly fox


I threw out the compass

And trampled the clock

And went for a walk

On Yangtze in the fog


The fog on the river

The fog on the field

Had covered believers

Like a cloudy shield


And everyone rambled

From A to the Z

And everyone’s lost

In the fog of Yangtze


I was just like them

Hardcovered and split

Then read Tao Te Ching

And tumbled to it


I burned my penthouse

Ate grapes from withy

And came out for dance

In the fog of Yangtze


Tell me in the South

Tell me in the North

The secret of China

What’s wisdom and force


And is it alright

That old man and young

Drinks like a fish

From the cups of the Tang


We all are the fruits

Of the Mondial tree

I don’t know where you

I don’t know where me


Who’s merry is old

And who’s gloomy is young

And everyone wonders

What the heck is this song


I will dance, I will sing

And God’s everywhere

I am my own yogi

I am my own prayer


I am my own Sufi

In my own synagogue

My heart in the glory

My head in the fog







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