Текст песни Анна Панкратова - Баллада о седине

One old man said to another:
"Look, what a spring!"
Another old man answered him:
"We also believed dreams."

One thought: “We’ll leave soon
Somewhere over the horizon ... "
Another thought: "Death is the house,
In which immortality awaits. "

They were silent for a moment. One for two
And indeed the spring raged
Let the one hundred and thirty springs in it be different -
Their gray hair did not melt.

Said one: "On the last war
I just can’t forget. "
Another answered: "Our memory of her is
A mediocre joke of fate.

Arithmetic of past years is complicated
Pity about the past - do not pity.
We have only one hundred and thirty victories for two
And as many as one hundred and thirty deaths. "

One hundred and thirty deaths are remembered, and there,
Where everyone was silent about his own
Winds touched their heads
One hundred thirty gray-haired january.

The old man handed the old man a pouch:
"No wonder we believed in dreams!
We have lived many sad years, -
And spring comes again. "

And after leaving the words for the young,
We sat at the edge of the water.
And they listened to the grass grow
In the thaw of the past winters.

And, silently stuffing tobacco into the tubes,
Letting smoke rings ...
One hundred years there was one old man. -
Another thirty years old became gray.