Текст песни Тарталья - Анна Лемерт. Тополя переговаривались

Poplars talking, surprised,
They clap their hands.
Street staring at the sky and wanted to fly.
Poplar fluff lay on the asphalt clouds.

He walked along the curb,
He is smiling and squinted,
I thought poetry,
and his eyes reflected the sun like old copper.

And he for some reason, been seen by those
who had been by:
a boy of twenty with your favorite freckled,
patsanenok a bike; smell of linden honey and smoke,
and the light, the sun can quench it,
and played on birch shiny leaves.

It was just in May; May was chewing a blade of grass, and screwed up his eyes,
and such non-urban green light,
and green small house, the old master, stooped,
as if pinned to the ground a year.
And bee hit on the cheek, buzzed,
flew on.
And it was only the beginning.
And there is no end. And never.