Текст песни Сергей Трофимов - Прогноз погоды

I don’t want to hear the news,
How I want to breathe without regret
Kiss the awakened children
And go to the circus for a performance.
And then, not regretting anything,
Walk in the lonely autumn park
Composing in imitation of Petrarch
Poems about his resurrection.

And let the weather forecast go down again in the morning,
And again the cyclone in my Fatherland is strange
We are still another whim of nature
Survive again, survive.

How I want not to hear the screamers,
I don’t want to be their addressee,
And trust the Beatles naivety,
Returning to the world sincerity once.
And until morning with friends at the table
Singing Vizbor, BG and Okudzhavu,
Merging into an indestructible power
Penetrated by light and good.

How I want not to lie to myself in the night
Justifying one’s own weakness,
And stand still by the flame of a candle
Believing in an unexpected joy.
And remember the distant and relatives
And ask for forgiveness for pride
Promising forever and now
Do not drive to the cliff on the chaise.

Survive!