Zemfira - Prosti menya moya lyubov' (translation)

Sea
Will embrace
Fishers will cast their threads
And catch our souls into their nets

Forgive me my love

Late
To think of anything
It's too late
I feel you need air
We lie in this enormous puddle

Forgive me my love

Jeans
Gathered in water
And clung
I think we are caught firmly in it
I think the sun went out

Forgive me my love

Quiet
Can't hear the clock
Or the gulls
Humbly we turn off our hearts
And you are in the sand as if in bronze

Forgive me my love