Текст песни Анатолий Багрицкий - Одна весна пришла к другой

One spring came to another
And he says, not blinking:
"How do you live here, dear?
I look, cost one foot
On the edge of the sky, like on ice.
What keeps you in this framework?
We behave like a yard.
When I will not come to you
One picture - on the table
Boots and dry leaves.
I'm sure, don't be lazy
Take milk and fresh bread
You would be hungry. Answer
Kind of my girlfriend,
Away from homeland, from the south
Are you looking for death? There will be death.
And what is this complexion?
All the paints 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, in autumn, she has
Work a lot, she does not need
Not a cabinet nor nor dinner.
On the windowsill rotes
Basket with apples. Them
She left like a fee
For accommodation. Could you
See what among your
This is found. One
Another, let's say something should
But the second, suppose
No thorough reasons
Remind about it. So
Pass - that there are years - life,
This is normal. We will be
Neighbors for quarters
No one would go crazy.
Although, of course, here 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 got acquainted with her she,
Responsible apartment,
Rather, eat you alive than
Tighten the belt on the pants.
For the summer she also spit.
It does not pretend itself
On the room in which blowing
Of all the cracks. When bed
Stands at the entrance, which is easy,
In such conditions, it is more so
Take for the exit, rupe without passing,
It flaves. Feed,
What time to do germination
For, in total, week
Heat, no one divides
Everything fits in handstone.
Now about smoke. Where pipes
Much more than trees,
You are fond of smoking.
Think, do not consider work,
Not about yourself, so about others.
Our mother, Venus,
Twelve daughters and nerves
Not iron. For two
She worries out
Animals feeling separation.
Come on, dear, hand
And do not think, let's go
From here. There are many places in the world
Where we will find work.
And on Chukhonsky swamps
We will not come back, here are the cross.
And on Chukhonsky swamps
We will not come back, here are the cross.
We will not come back, here are the cross.