Текст песни музыка - нежная мелодия

& quot; I died almost 9 years ago. But I am not writing you to tell me how I live here. I am writing to tell you my story. The story of my great love. And I also want to say that love does not die. Even in the next world. Even if they are trying to kill her, even if you want it. Love does not die. Never. We met on December 31st. I was going to celebrate the New Year with my third wife with my old friends. My life before its appearance was so useless and unnecessary that very often I asked myself: & lt; Why do I live? & Gt; Job? Yes, I liked what I did. Family? I really wanted to have children, but I did not have them. Now I understand that the meaning of my life was - in anticipation of this meeting. I do not want to describe it. Rather, I just can not describe it, so you really understand what it is. Because every letter, every line of my letter is imbued with love for her and for every eyelash that fell from her sad eyes, for every tear, I was ready to give everything. So it was December 31st. I immediately realized that I was gone. If she had come alone, I would not be ashamed of my third spouse and would have approached her in the first minute of our meeting. But she was not alone. Next to her was my best friend. They were familiar only a couple of weeks, but from his mouth I heard about her a lot of interesting things. And now, I saw her. When the chimes struck and toasts were made, I went to the window. My breath blew my breath and I wrote: & lt; LOVE & gt; He went away and the writing on his eyes disappeared. Then there was again a feast, toasts. I returned to the window in an hour. I breathed on it and saw the inscription & lt; YOUR & gt ;. My legs gave way, my breath stopped for a few seconds ... Love comes only once. And this person understands immediately. All that was in my life before this day was tinsel, sleep, delirium. A lot of words have this phenomenon. But my life began precisely on that New Year's Eve, because I understood, I saw in her eyes that this day was also the first day in her life. On January 2, we moved to the hotel, and planned to buy our own little corner. We have got into the habit of writing notes to each other on the windows. I wrote to her & lt; You are my dream & gt ;. She answered & lt; Don't wake up! & Gt; We left the most secret desires on the windows in the hotel, in the car, at the friends' house. We were together for exactly two months. Then I was gone.

Now I come to her only when she sleeps. I sit down on her bed, I smell her. I can not cry. I can not. But I feel pain. Not physical, but spiritual. All these eight years she meets New Year alone. She sits by the window, pours a glass of champagne and cries. I also know that she continues to write me notes on the windows. Everyday. But I can not read them, because the window does not sweat from my breath.

Last New Year was unusual. I do not want to tell you the secrets of the afterlife, but I deserve one wish. I wanted to read her last inscription on the glass. And when she fell asleep, I sat for a long time by her bed, I stroked her hair, I kissed her hands ... And then I went to the window. I knew that I would succeed, I knew that I could see her message - and I saw. She left one word for me & lt; RELEASE & gt;

This New Year will be the last one she will spend alone. I received permission for my last wish, in exchange for the fact that I would never again be able to come to her and never see her again. This New Year's Eve, when the clock strikes midnight, when everyone is having fun around and congratulating each other, when the whole universe stops waiting for the first breath, the first second of the new year, she pours herself a glass of champagne, goes to the window and sees the inscription & lt; ;. & quot;