Текст песни Виктор Жарков - Якорь

If you throw the anchor, it's probably here somewhere,
where up to four near-ground five vertical
and torn from the chains, barefoot on the green water
run straight, never to catch up with.

And then, without shame dancing on high waves,
mists of shouting hoarse throat Typhon
and scraped bronyashku move on the round window,
and eyes to see the impending cyclone.

And when pripechet, poshvyryat all ballast to the anchors,
because over the years as every ponakopilos.
The severity and empty promises, wasted in vain -
cargo remnants of resentment and hope that once broken.

Not for freight, as well as by selecting any continent
as the Dutchman to fly, do not worry about the far berth,
and ever again find the old anchor on the bottom,
where up to five stars, four light vertically.