Текст песни А. Клименко - А нам із тобою ні слова, ні дотику

And we thee a word, no contact -
Collect fruit in the gardens of solitude,
And the distance for peace, and closeness to reproach,
Where do you begin zupynyayeshsya.
For despair in silence tied at the throat,
And conditional peace and silence viscous,
I have it with you as a word connected,
As the touch pen on white sheet.
Reach the right to leave us weak,
For clarity uncertainty and sadness threads
In which we succeeded in thee nevchasnosti,
Split misfortune lucky corner.
In cold porches seek asylum,
Neznaydenyy time for neznaydenyh lips,
I lack, you will lack,
Nezbudovanyh me thy facilities.
Cold dishes and warm dishes
Your subtle oscillation frequency
For our pains and general condemnation,
Find new confessions of voids.
If our pain are two of us chooses,
And the silence frightens and not part,
Perhaps that limits vvyzhalas not,
Perhaps this fear is the only limit.