| Today was the last bell at school,
|
| And the little daughter became an adult.
|
| O youth! |
| I'm sick of you again
|
| But doctors are unlikely to be able to help here.
|
| I will go again to Tsarskoye Selo -
|
| There, where it is light to transparency.
|
| 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 it is no longer hot in September,
|
| Where leaves do not promise youth,
|
| Where the leaves do not promise youth.
|
| Already the old women seem to be relatives,
|
| And 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 go to take out the garbage in the muffler,
|
| And I'm going to take out the garbage in the muffler.
|
| Somehow a cloud wandered into our house
|
| And glass from glass.
|
| We'll survive our rains
|
| Me and you, together.
|
| 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
|
| 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 for the third time, when the heart squeezes
|
| Desire to be grandchildren
|
| 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 changes.
|
| But let 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, together.
|
| We'll survive our rains
|
| Me and you, together.
|
| Me and you, together.
|
| 1 Melpomene - in Greek mythology, one of the 9 muses, the patroness of tragedy. |