Текст песни Алексей Кобзев - так....

so my hand strokes me
so macushka daughter near the lips -
tease with the molasses and the smell of milk,
so fly south
Kuchny August clouds

So nests in the heart tenderness
with primitive horror losing,
So, peering in the mirror in the morning,
remember mother
and soul sliding to her legs

So run on the smell, on the light, on the sound,
without looking back, losing everything that was able to save,
turning into the nerve, turning to the rumor -
gain
Touching the fingers of your favorite hands

so preparing breakfast and put tea
so watching how to breathe and frowning,
so kiss the right away
So you shout from pain, knocking into blood
Fists, if there is no your shoulder nearby ...
so do love -
Humane Palach himself

© Caterina Bilina