Текст песни Борис Пастернак - Анне Ахматовой

I think I pick up words
Similar to your pristine.
A mistaken - I do Trin-grass,
I still will not part with an error.

I hear the patter of wet roofs,
End plates stalled eclogues.
Some city, clear from the first lines,
It grows and is given each syllable.

Around the spring, but it is impossible for the city.
More strict zakazchitsa buying.
Eyes sewing lamps to tears,
Lights dawn, without straightening his back.

Inhaling gave Ladoga surface,
Hastening to the water, humbling force decline.
With such gulyanok nothing to take.
Channels smell musty pilings.

As it dives like an empty walnut,
Hot wind rustles and eyelids
Branches, and stars, and the lights, and milestones
And from the bridge gazing into the distance seamstress.

Sometimes the eye differently sharp,
Different image is accurate.
But the worst solution fortress -
Night distance under the gaze of the white night.

So I can see your appearance and look.
He to me is inspired not by a pillar of salt,
Whom you were five years ago,
Funk pinned regard to rhyme,

But based on your first books,
Where were strengthened prose closely grains,
He and all like a spark conductor,
Events come true makes the beat.