https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USTq9wBSIv8
Like a river you run, a strange appellation
And the asphalt's transparent, just like river flows.
Ah Arbat my Arbat! You are my vocation.
You're my happiness and you are my woe.
Your crosswalks - with small-time people they are smidgeoned:
They are hurrying to work and stomping their heels.
Ah Arbat my Arbat! You are my religion.
All your ramparts are there lying under me.
Of your love I cannot be cured, I understand,
Though forty thousand other roads I may adore.
Ah Arbat my Arbat! You are my Fatherland,
And I won't reach your end forevermore.
By Bulat Okudzhava
Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat