Текст песни Белов - Дрозды

You heard thrushes sing
No, not those thrushes, not field thrushes,
And blackbirds, blackbird wizards,
Songwriters of Russia.
And blackbirds, blackbird wizards,
Songwriters of Russia.

So they sat in the woods,
Sounded to oblivion
I recognize them by their voices
The sonorous overlords of the moment.
I recognize them by their voices
The sonorous overlords of the moment.

Sounds grow like flowers
Sad, funny, any.
That’s hot, to redness,
That is cold blue.
That’s hot, to redness,
That is cold blue.

Reach the morning star
Rainbows fall on the grass
Hats away, thrushes sing in the forest,
They sing for the soul, not for glory.
Hats away, thrushes sing in the forest,
They sing for the soul, not for glory.