Текст песни Дмитрий Абросимов - Птицы

Too many unnecessary faces
We met that February.
You kept hundreds of birds in your hands
All my yellow-breasted tits
My light-winged cranes.

You warmed them from a host of blizzards,
She sheltered from the glances of passers-by
From accidents to suddenly
Neither longing nor any ailment
He did not touch their feathery skin.

But spring decided everything for us,
The greenhouse opened up your hands,
So suddenly, instantly, at once,
The birds soared over the horizon of their eyes,
Hurrying to merge with the blue.

music: Yann Tiersen - Mother's Journey