Текст песни Узланер Владимир - Фантазии старой прачки

A world as endless as a river
In the living consciousness
Rushes for centuries
On white and blue.

While the clothes are being washed,
While the hand is steady -
Born from her thoughts,
Clouds made of foam.

The song will rise up, touching the maple tree,
The nearest forest will sigh,
She sings about beauty
About the time of miracles...

In the evening, lighting a pipe,
The sunset will be betrayed to the fire.
Meadows like hundreds of horse manes,
They will sway in the wind.

And at night, shaking it out into the stream
Living coals,
Will send a star shuttle
In the nebula of the river.

And hundreds of troubles will go out,
Like hundreds of stars around.
And the world will return to bright light
On white and blue.