В это время на Арбате в восьмикомнатной квартире Девчонка лет шестнадцати, уставшая от игр Собирала чемоданы, надевала башмаки И в записке написала: Я свихнулась от тоски!
Прощай, Москва...
The guy was going on a long journey From a town long forgotten by God The wind sang in his pockets, anxiety burned his heart: If only I never come back here!
At this time on the Arbat in an eight-room apartment A girl of sixteen, tired of games Packing my bags, putting on my shoes And in a note she wrote: I'm crazy with longing!