Текст песни Булат Окуджава - С Моцартом мы уезжаем из Зальцбурга

With Mozart we are leaving Salzburg,
Barry spacious, horse in suit,
My life like a shaved apple
It stretches to the warm land the fallen.
Well, my companion, this young,
Joyful tears do not wash with face
What does he think about the age of his short,
He is all about music, so that to the end.

Time does not remain on the wires,
Yes, really not needed
Tears that were no wonder because of the sheds,
Wings that were not in vain because they are given.
Well, a fellow traveler my hand is nervous
Waves and wave the fortune of his
Notch one only comes true
And poured like a nightingale.

My hands on the knees rest
Inhale hopeless in chest,
There behind the back - goodbye, the sideways,
And nothing, nothing in front.
Well, and the companion is my divine baking,
Not to donate their efforts
Then he is on the flotchka, then he is on the violin,
Then on the horn sings for two.