Текст песни Landscape Grown Cold (John Hartford) с переводом

The trees standing naked

The ground underfoot

Is a dark cellar, cool

The battleship skies

So heavy my shoulders droop

It’s a lean kind of day

That I sometimes pass through

The vines are like veins

On the old village wall

Where the grass turns to white

And way down the road

I see smoke from another world

In a room I’m not welcome

Removed from my life

I sit in the ditch

And I dig in the sand

With the heel of my sole

Sink down in my coat collar

Back to the wind that blows

Insane by myself

In a landscape grown cold

The painted tin sign

Flaps back in the wind

Where the green bottles lay

And a window of boards

Facing hollow upon the dust

Empty chairs sit in judgment

Accusing the day

I sit in the ditch

And I dig in the sand

With the heel of my sole

Sink down in my coat collar

Back to the wind that blows

Insane by myself

In a landscape grown cold

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