Безмятежное

[trocepins]

Июньское воскресное утро

Day after day, alone on a hill
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still
But nobody wants to know him, they can see that he's just a fool
And he never gives an answer

But the fool on the hill sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head see the world spinning around

Короче, «и вот, что видится мне»