By the light of an old Russian moon
he moves in the white winter night,
like a man down on his luck in a frozen land
by the running of sand.
Forty leagues by the river of life
all snowbound, forty years now,
this is he known as The Prince,
all broken down.
You are more than a memory, Tanya.
There is more than the love of a man
for the life he knows about.
God bless the travellers to the truth.
In the river window-side candlelight, Tatyana.
In the rays of the moon she is sleeping tonight
like the willow-queen, ah, easy life.
But it’s paid for in full
by the affluent doctor’s wife,
There’s a crack in the wall
of a broken-hearted house.
And the man with the curse on his road
treads a circling way to get home.
He must kneel to the Lion of Judah
by the light of an old Russian moon.
You are loved, you are loved, Tatyana,
sweeter than life that we know about,.
Do you think of me, d’ya think of me,
on the night-sea crossing…