Текст песни Александра Арбацкая - Бабочка

Is it you, my sun, despair?
Is it you, the bright bird of the month?
Your eyes, your eyes are endless
In my centuries, my centuries, will fit? ..
And flew quietly, flew off a swallow,
And lips fell, fell wounded.
Is it you, you, or is it me already
You, I, but the sadness in the light.

And I can hear everything
And all the careless
And I always dream
Yes, everything is not eternal,
So wake me up
A bite of a butterfly.
Tired girls
The boys are gone.

Is it you, my sea, yearning?
Are you the stars on the body of joy?
Is it you holiday of blessing
In a shaky roll echoing reckless idleness.
Or is this forest bowed soundless
Or is the wind frozen in ignorance
Or did it all turn into a dove
The dove soared into the ground, and there was a singing.