Текст песни Сергей Труханов, автор слов Григорий Кружков - Снег

All the things we breathe out on a cold day:
lumps of dreams, misty streams of resentment,
and those bubbles that the earth breathes,

and the smoke from the chimneys, and the steam of the unstable river,
and a cloud over a tub, in which to wash
trying hard for the black dog,

and gray smoke and steam from an oil river,
and our sighs and morning yawns,
and all the fearful and helpless words -

go up - and, passing through the seven heavens
and seven golden curtains - world wings -
transform into stars and pour down -

look - what shimmering lace of ribbons,
diamond sparks of crosses and rings -
as if the angels' workshop has worked here!

This is how heaven teaches us to write poetry
so eternity visits us while it snows
they fly without touching the black, greedy ground.