| July heat.
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| Asphalt melts in it,
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| And in city parks
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| Overbooked in the morning.
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| Downstream light "Skif"
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| Lazily drive two oars,
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| The alleys suddenly became narrow,
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| Do not count the number of wheelchairs.
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| July heat.
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| On sail masts
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| Like wrinkled linen in an old attic.
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| When the warm rain falls,
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| So that the bouquet of flowers is fresh,
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| Which we will collect with you
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| Together by a quiet river?
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| The sun baked our heads.
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| The mercury column climbs higher and higher.
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| But only planes and pigeons
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| Cut the sky above the roof.
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| Barely roam the dog walkers,
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| A collie has no strength to bark a husky.
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| Somewhere there are happy summer residents
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| Tales are weaving on the verandas.
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| July heat.
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| Burns on the vine
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| strawberry flavor,
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| So necessary for the kids.
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| God Forgotten Kindergarten
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| Plays in the stone yard.
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| And all the local pop music
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| Dreaming of September.
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| Wet beauty laughs.
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| Sprinklers run from morning to night.
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| And businessmen don't like it -
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| Tie suddenly accidentally wet.
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| Followed by cheerful dresses
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| Men are drawn to the fountain in the heat.
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| I'll be waiting for you at Kazansky.
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| Put on something lighter.
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| July heat.
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| Kvass ended long ago.
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| And drank to the bottom
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| All puddles are sparrows.
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| And crawl out on the Haymarket
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| From cabins heated by day
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| All people twirl one thing:
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| Zero-three, zero-two, zero-one.
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| The sun baked our heads.
|
| The mercury column climbs higher and higher.
|
| But only planes and pigeons
|
| Cut the sky above the roof.
|
| Barely roam the dog walkers,
|
| A collie has no strength to bark a husky.
|
| Somewhere there are happy summer residents
|
| Tales are weaving on the verandas.
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| Tales are weaving on the verandas...
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| Tales are weaving on the verandas... |