Текст песни Розенбаум А.Я. - Музыка и стихи

How often at night in the exhaust steps
Stroof trembles, rushes and breaks ...
I am so rarely managed by verse without music.
I have to listen to the music of poems.
I have to feel the motive of my soul,
Words without music are dead in my art,
How without a soldier of the Equal Bruvier -
One does not eat anyone.
How to understand the sound of phrases:
Where to shout, where to whisper on the loyal note?
Poems and music, you are a song - flesh from the flesh!
Poems and music - I do not share you!
I have to read in every tact
Pooh, written in sounds,
And distinguish meditation, joy, flour,
And in the notes these feelings write.
What a fool said that the song is a verse!
What ignorant of music elevated!
Who so humbled a song thought
In your speeches pompous-empty!
And I forgetting in a song nonsense,
How the spell repeat again
That the musician is only the one who hears the word
The poet is only one who with music in Lada.