Текст песни Мария Пахоменко - Лучше нету того цвету

No better the color

Words by M. Isakovskogo
Music M. Blanter

No better color,
When apple blossoms ,
No better the minute
When my dear come.
As I see , you hear -
Everything in me to speak ,
All my soul is burning ,
All my soul on fire.

We are in each other's eyes 's look ,
Hands hot gossip
And where - we do not know ourselves,
Like a drunken delirium .
A range of gardens whiten ,
And in the gardens raging May
And this month in the sky -
Although needles pick them up .

We wandered along the paths,
Cochin where no grass,
Where the heart torn themselves
Unforgettable words .
Across the river plays an accordion -
That will fill , then freeze ...
No better color,
When apple blossoms .