| Silence dabbled in the evening with a guitar.
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| The twilight flickered with the lights of cigarettes.
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| It was in May, when spring toiled
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| Songs in my yard.
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| Girls bloomed, forgotten in winter,
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| Loved girls and poems were composed.
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| And more and more often mothers called girls home,
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| This is how the girls grew up.
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| Youth burst into a five-story house,
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| Into the old well of the Nevsky yard.
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| Everything that I left in it doesn't matter now
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| Tomorrow you can't bring back yesterday.
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| Only for some reason since then I have not slept again,
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| Instead of a pack of cigarettes, I smoke two.
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| Only for some reason in May I love again
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| That one, into the wide world.
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| I would like to return to the five-story house,
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| Into the old well of the Nevsky yard.
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| Everything that was left in it is no longer important.
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| Tomorrow you can't bring back yesterday.
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| I beat at the glass, like a ringed dove, with a wing,
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| Well, a little more, and I'll fly away into the sky,
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| That's the will, that's all!.. But under the open window
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| My daughter waves to me.
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| And do not return to the five-story house,
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| Into the old well of the Nevsky yard.
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| Everything that is left in it is important,
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| Even if everything is yesterday. |