Текст песни Б. Л. Пастернак - Сосны

In the grass, between wild balsams,
Camomile and forest bathe,
We lie, hands thrown back
And I lifted my head to the sky.

Grass in a pine clearing
Impenetrable and thick.
We will exchange and again
We change postures and places.

And now, immortals for a time,
We are counted to the face of the pines
And from diseases, epidemics
And death is freed.

With intentional monotony,
Like ointment, thick blue
Lies bunnies down
And dirty our sleeves.

We divide the rest of the redwoods,
Under the choking of the murash
Pine soporific mixture
Lemon with incense breathing.

And so violent in blue
Runs of fire trunks,
And we will not take out our hands for so long.
From under the broken heads,

And so much latitude in the eye,
And so all are submissive from the outside,
That somewhere behind the trunks of the sea
Frowns all the time to me.

There are waves above these branches
And, falling off the boulder,
Shrimp hail shrimp
From a muddied bottom.

And in the evenings behind the tug
The traffic on the traffic jams
And casts fish oil
And the misty haze of amber.

Dusk, and gradually
The moon bury all traces
Under the white magic of foam
And the black magic of the water.

And the waves are noisier and higher,
And the audience on the float
She hovers at the post with the poster,
Indistinguishable in the distance.