Анатолий Багрицкий - Одна весна пришла к другой
текст песни

One spring came to the other
And he tells her, not blinking:
"How do you live here, dear?
I look, standing one foot
On the edge of the sky, like on ice.
What is holding you within this framework?
You behave like a tenant.
When I come to you,
One picture is on the table
Cigarette butts and dry leaves.
I'm sure I'm not too lazy
Take milk and fresh bread,
You would be starving. Answer
My dear girlfriend
Away from the homeland, from the south
Are you looking for death? There will be death.
And what kind of complexion is this?
All colors are good, but these
Memories of color
Let's leave the dead.
These memories of color
Let's leave the dead.
Let's leave the dead.

Well, autumn, she has
There is a lot of work, she does not need
Neither the cabinet nor a hearty dinner.
On the windowsill, he rots
Basket with apples. Their
She left a fee
For accommodation. You could
Notice that among your
This is found. One
Another, say, something owes
But the second, suppose,
There are no thorough reasons
Remind of it. So
Pass - that there are years - life,
This is fine. We are
Neighbors, in a quarter
No one would go crazy.
Although, of course, there is another.
I know what is it,
Six months a year winter.
I know what is it,
Six months a year winter.
Six months a year winter.

We met her, she
Responsible tenant,
Rather, you will eat you alive than
Tighten the belt on the pants.
For the summer she still does not care.
It does not claim itself
On the room in which it blows
Of all the cracks. When the bed
It costs at the entrance, which is easy
In such conditions, more and more
Take for the exit, the rupee without surrender,
It is moving. Feed,
That manages to germinate
For a total of a week
Heat, no one shares it,
Everything fits in a handful.
Now about smoke. Where the pipes
Much more than trees,
You are fond of smoking.
Think, do not count for work,
Not about yourself, so about others.
Our mother, Venus,
Twelve daughters and nerves
Not made of iron. For two
She is worried, instinct
Feeling animals.
Come on, dear, hand
And don't hesitate, let's go
From here. There are many places in the world
Where we will find work.
And on the Chukhonsky swamps
We will not return, here are the cross.
And on the Chukhonsky swamps
We will not return, here are the cross.
We will not return, here are the cross.