Текст песни Ирек Тухватшин - Питерская

The roofs turned white again in late December
- we celebrate the evening together,
you and I did not whisper tenderly by candlelight,
our hearth just warmed us.

And the gifts were rare
those that we gave for no reason,
but we did not speak in verse
or maybe we didn't love that much ...

Star Peter tears young hearts apart
The north is cold endlessly
a glare of the sun lit up on the dock,
the outdated brig creaked.

He went sailing to the seas
storm waves cut in knots,
the navigator on board played with his mustache,
with us his wanderings globe - memory.