Текст песни Вероника Мерц - Этот взор, это голос...

Again dreamed up in the morning,
As I kiss your shoulders.
I wake up in a cold sweat,
I've been repeating again incoherent speech:
"Why, why is this a dream !?
I even write a book about it.
This look, the voice, tone ...
How many days I still wither? "
How her eyes bestsenny-
Like thousands of blue ice floes.
As if they were precious stones.
I do not deserve them alone.
Not worthy of a smile, a laugh,
To what did he captivates me!
About you mechtat- ​​not fun,
On the left you mechtat- ​​hurts.
I tied my soul to you.
Every gesture, every eye catching.
I probably ever shall
In the silence to say: "I love."
I will write about the life of all eyes,
After all they are-like sky, beautiful.
About writing your hair,
Knowing that all the suffering in vain.
And let thy terrible verdict ...
All the same, there is a sense of place.
And let your gaze brave dangerous.
Writing about nёm- honor for me.