| Thirty years have passed since childhood,
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| It's getting harder and harder to undress with your soul,
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| I want to walk more and more
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| Not at the table, but in the old quiet park,
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| In which in September it is no longer hot,
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| Where the leaves do not promise youth.
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| Already the old women seem to be relatives,
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| And the girls are like clockwork dolls,
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| And Mozart's smile is more and more audible.
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| The neighbors are already leaving after midnight,
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| The wine has not been drunk, and the cake has not been eaten,
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| And I'm going to take out the trash in the muffler.
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| Somehow a cloud wandered into our house
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| And glass from glass.
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| We'll survive our rains
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| Me and you, both.
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| It's been twenty years since high school
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| And the world of my friends is no longer young
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| We were not spared trouble.
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| But the night is dark, and the day, as before, is bright,
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| Our children grow up and grow up,
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| Let our autumn become their spring.
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| It's been ten years since the wedding
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| We no longer rush to visit at night looking
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| And we come to visit grandmothers
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| On the day of birth once and once on the day of death,
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| And the third time, when the heart squeezes
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| Desire to be grandchildren.
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| Half a life has already passed since the weddings,
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| Friends, do not disperse, for God's sake,
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| Already in our families there is no time for change.
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| And even though sometimes it is very tight,
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| But still we got used to each other,
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| Let us leave Melpomene the bitterness of scenes,
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| Let's not be shy about old walls.
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| Somehow a cloud wandered into our house
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| And glass from glass.
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| We'll survive our rains
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| Me and you, both. |