Текст песни Адела Василой - Дриады

Dryad

Golden clouds floated above the ground,
Above the fires of autumn - maple and aspen,
Somewhere behind the fog crying harpsichord,
In the autumn drizzle and mist of night.

A garden is still like in the summer heat,
Smell wafted tёrpkih woods,
Do female spirits - "Indian Summer-spleen"
And love late, fatal passion ...

There Dryads languishing out at evening,
The shell-throwing tree without worries,
To dance with leaves slow gavotte.

A pained from the grip and shook the sheets in the wind
Dancing merry it is not in store
Happiness has sunk into oblivion, came their time ...

Words and music - Adela Basil.
Computer muz.soprovozhdenie - Vladimir L.Yakovlev