White Wings

Em-7 лад, -  7 лад, - 8 лад, - 7 лад.

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The white mares of the moon rush along the sky

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Beating their golden hoofs upon the glass heavens;

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The white mares of the moon are all standing on their hind legs

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Pawing at the green porcelain doors of the remote heavens

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Fly, Mares!  Fly aways!
Strain your utmost 
Scatter the milky dust of stars, 
Or the tiger sun will leap upon you and destroy you 
With one lick of his vermilion tongue.