Текст песни Владимир Москвин - Стукнул по карману - не звенит

ELEGY

I hit my pocket - it does not ring.
I hit it differently - not to hear.
In a quiet, mysterious zenith
Thoughts to rest flew.

But I wake up and go beyond the threshold
And go down the drain
About the sadness of the roads traveled
To rustle with the remnants of hair.

The memory is bewildered
Youth is slipping away
The sun describes a circle -
Life counts the term.

I hit my pocket - it does not ring.
I’ll hit it another way — not to hear.
If only I will be famous
I’ll go to Yalta to rest ...