Текст песни YURY BASHKIN - Уличный скрипач

On a yellow autumn street
The elderly violinist played.
The trees seemed to be kissing ...
And God himself helped the violin.

The bow danced desperately
On the strings. Skillful magician!
The old man got confused by accident,
Quite imperceptibly so ...

Passers-by gathered around.
For copper, praise is generous.
Violin heart anxious
Ready to sing until the morning.

The old man, smiling sincerely,
Dances in place to the beat.
And the wind playing with leaves
The wide tract caresses.

But there is silence. Began to bow
Smiling virtuoso.
And in every soul will remain
Bliss of spring roses.

The autumn street is empty
The old man left a long time ago.
But the violin worries again
She sings all the same.