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