Текст песни Андрей Макаревич - Вдалеке от высоких холмов

I live not at the highest hill,
Land from high hills.
Maybe there is warm and not so skies are far away.
And my hill is low - even standing on the toes,
Do not reach clouds,
But from the top of the hand to the river.

Summer - the time of guests and innocent passions,
I walked around the hill where I wanted
And stayed on tops and the sky touching her hand
Where I visited that a day is a carnival,
That neither night is salute, then shooting,
There are orchestras, and champagne pour the river.

There are sadness away,
There I danced all night
But in the morning always on a familiar river
Returned to the hill that stands in the distance
From high-tall hills.