Once more I sent to you a letter Tenderly kissing its pages And opening the bottle of your evil perfume I'm inhaling its intoxication And then oh so clearly I see These thin black birds that are flying From the bottle they fly to the South From the bottle of Nuit de Noel
And soon once again comes the spring When the youthful violins of Venice Will dance out your grief and your sorrow Will dance out your gloom and despair And then your sins seem not as bad And your blue mistakes will become lighter Please don't be afraid to share all your spring kisses When almond trees begin to bloom
Please don't cry for me my dear friend I'm a bird that is frozen and sulking My Sharmanshik master he shows me no mercy He makes me dance non-stop all day And picking up the lucky tickets I stare at the unhappy faces And accompanied by cries of the Sharmanka I'm falling asleep on my feet
Once more I send to you a letter And tenderly kissing its pages Don't be angry at me for an unhappy end So seductive are my bitter tears And due to your evil perfume All this is because of those black thoughts Flying like birds from the bottle to the South From the bottle called Nuit de Noel
Lyrics from Marc Almond's "Nuit de Noel". Originally by Alexander Vertinsky. Translated from the Russian original by Olga Lutskaya