Текст песни Варвара Визбор - Мёртвый сезон в Ялте

Goodbye, no longer sorry
   No life, no minutes.
   Eyes under the Husky
   Souls do not hurt.
   Lead canopy hanging
   Almost polar clouds.
   To me this southern city
   Like Magadan, prickly.
   
   Goodbye! Let the passerby
   In the trolley window
   You will not be disturbed
   Reminding me of.
   A beacon like a lighter
   Blinking, but not to me.
   Yalta shakes me
   Like a skiff on a wave ...
   
   Goodbye ... raging
   And time is up
   Search beyond the pass
   Gone is the heat.
   No need to draw from the bottom,
   Better tear it up!
   And Yalta is all without the sun,
   And the heart is without love.
   
   Dead Season
   In Yalta,
   Dead Season
   In heart.
   Dead Season,
   Like a bison
   He lay down by the water.
   Dead Season,
   In Yalta.
   Dead Season,
   In heart.
   Dead Season
   Over the horizon
   Hides traces!