Текст песни Светлана Страусова, слова Марины Чекиной - Ностальгия

White lily porcelain
On green saucers of floating leaves ...
In the silence of the backwater, in the captivity of idylls
I contemplate summer, and that is self-interest

Even a hardened cynic will not discern:
The body asks for neither drink nor bread.
I would step ashore, enter the raspberry-tree -
I have long wanted to sweeten my fate.

But at the bottom the grate is more tender than a feather bed,
Aft seat - trapping cushions -
This woody spirit caresses the back,
This fresh breeze pats the soul.

How pleasant the touch of water is:
Between warm fingers - live streams ...
And then on the oars I go back,
Pre-sunset air wholeheartedly.
* * *