Текст песни Юрий Визбор - А будет это так...

And it will be like this: the night will cry with a treble
And a rusty brittle leaf will hook on the moon,
And white-white snow will fall from heaven by landing,
To black cities give blue.
And the clouds will run, driven by constellations.
Lift the collar like a December sail
And the old-old dog with the eyes of a pilgrim
Throws a muzzle up with yellow lights.
My friends, my friends, to start all over again,
On the wet shores to pitch your tents,
Wallowing on the boards of a heated pier
And see how distant bonfires smoke.
Winter will come in the constellation of good luck
And a light ski run from the door
And maybe then we will succeed differently,
Otherwise than now, live the rest of the days.
November 21, 1975