Ты помнишь, как все начиналось.
Все было впервые и вновь.
Как строили лодки, и лодки звались
"Вера", "Надежда", "Любовь".
Как дружно рубили канаты,
И вдаль уходила земля.
И волны нам пели, и каждый пятый,
Как правило, был у руля.
Я пью до дна
За тех, кто в море,
За тех, кого любит волна,
За тех, кому повезет.
И если цель одна
И в радости, и в горе,
То тот, кто не струсил
И весел не бросил,
Тот землю свою найдет.
Напрасно нас бури пугали.
Вам скажет любой моряк,
Что бури бояться вам стоит едва ли,
В сущности, буря - пустяк.
В бури лишь крепче руки,
И парус поможет идти.
Гораздо трудней не свихнуться со скуки
И выдержать полный штиль.
Я пью до дна
За тех, кто в море,
За тех, кого любит волна,
За тех, кому повезет.
И если цель одна
И в радости, и в горе,
То тот, кто не струсил
И весел не бросил,
Тот землю свою найдет.
Я пью до дна
За тех, кто в море,
За тех, кого любит волна,
За тех, кому повезет.
И если цель одна
И в радости, и в горе,
То тот, кто не струсил
И весел не бросил,
Тот землю свою найдет.
Землю свою найдет,
Землю свою найдет. Do you remember how it all began .
Everything was for the first time and again.
How to build boats, and boats were called
& quot; Faith & quot ;, & quot; Hope & quot ;, & quot; Love & quot ;.
How to cut the ropes together ,
And away went the land .
And the waves , we sang, and one in five ,
As a rule, was at the helm .
I drink to the dregs
For those who are at sea,
For those who likes to wave,
For those who are lucky .
And if the goal is
And in joy and in sorrow ,
That one who is not a coward
And the fun does not quit ,
He finds his own land .
In vain we storm frightened .
Will tell you any sailor,
What you should be afraid of the storm hardly ,
In fact , the storm - a trifle .
In a storm stronger hand ,
And the sail will go.
Much more difficult to keep from going crazy with boredom
And stand calm.
I drink to the dregs
For those who are at sea,
For those who likes to wave,
For those who are lucky .
And if the goal is
And in joy and in sorrow ,
That one who is not a coward
And the fun does not quit ,
He finds his own land .
I drink to the dregs
For those who are at sea,
For those who likes to wave,
For those who are lucky .
And if the goal is
And in joy and in sorrow ,
That one who is not a coward
And the fun does not quit ,
He finds his own land .
Finds his land ,
Finds his land . | |
