Текст песни Александр Суханов - Больная осень

Oh, sick, beautiful Autumn,
You will die from the winter cold
When the winds blow through the pines
And they will cover the gardens with a white canopy.
So die in abundance
Among ripe fruits, Autumn is poor,
Hawks are circling in the sky ...
The pale leaves have lost in the pond.

Somewhere in a grove of distant unrest,
There are lonely deer trumpeting
Autumn voices die
Deep lakes are cooling -

I catch these distant sounds.
Oh cold, piercing wind
Autumn, yellow colors of parting,
Fireworks golden at dawn.

Someone wanders the leaves in confusion,
Goes to the morning train.
I have another morning measured
Closer, closer a minute of rest ...
I have another morning measured
Closer, closer a minute of rest ...