Текст песни Юрий Визбор - Есть город матросов

There is a city of sailors, night double basses,
Shaggy watchdogs and old karbs,
Zuidvestok kalyani on inclined shrouds,
In the winds cursed with brine hot.
Hmaras lie there on the snowy mountains.
There, in a storm, the Pomors pass through the bars.
And I dream of a pole - a tumbler of snow -
And with a wolf's pace, a dog team.

And I dream about a pole - a snow roll - And with a wolf's pace, a dog sled.
And caressing my heart with male courage,
The road goes to the open sea.

The road goes to the open sea.

I flew deaf in the tundra under the doha.
The road is an arc with one milestone.
I saw with my own eyes space and time:
I am their focus for everyone. Before everyone.

I still hear the geese cry
In the April heat in the polar desert.
What did the memory love? What did you yearn for?
Everything seems to have happened and - as if not happened.

What did the memory love? What did you yearn for?
Everything, it seems, was And - as if not happened.
But caressing my heart with male courage,
The road goes to the open sea.
The road goes to the open sea.

1979 Yuri Vizbor, verses by P. Shubin, music by S. Nikitin