Today I stepped on an old woman's cloth
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Didn't turn his face, but saw slanting hands
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And, feeling how she accompanies me
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I reached the turn and fell on the snow:
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She shook my collar like a cherry branch
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She sprinkled salt on her lips, calling my agility superfluous
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She threatened not to swim to the full house, -
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The river is as dangerous as a sword duel!
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And if we met eyes in an old pub
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Then I would have trampled the hem of a stooped woman more than once,
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But where the winds of the north roll stones with ice, -
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She kicks my side with her boot
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Everything roars and conjures so that they do not believe the bard;
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Curtains fall on the doors of the pawnshop
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And hands twist my body at the feet of the poplars,
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This is a performance that has no roles!
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Requiem she sings for me not cleanly
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Two white swans swim towards the palm of a chimney sweep
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Like a knife, and couples are unknown to time
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Whose dance was so devilishly good!
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She kisses me...
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She kisses me...
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She kisses me...
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She kisses me!
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Save...
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Save!
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Notes of a young doctor found in the closet in the morning
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Morphine breaks patients, but breaks wisely...
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All life is a hospital, but in a high-end clinic
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The doctors said that I was not in the park that evening
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Then who was kicked by this gentle darkness?
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To whom did I get angry and pray at shoulder height?
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Who tried to identify at the shop monologues
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Yes, the eye did not see and did not recognize the speeches, tell me ?!
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And I try to explain everything, as if a foreigner:
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"I'm not myself ... But I remember this white dance!"
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Yes, the old-timers of the circus would not believe the rumors,
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But the old woman's kiss left me with the smell of zinc...
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Turned the wrong way home
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She was looking for someone's trail and came across mine;
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Not everyone is given the opportunity to go deep along the bottom,
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But two roads were lit by a lantern in one
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This is a story with a bad ending,
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I am an outstanding passer-by, but a bad dancer
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And if the books did not lie, then, leafing further
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I understand that I saw a banshee that evening
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The two-horned moon is silent, does not believe ...
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A man smokes a cigarette and fixes the doors
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My hands are tied on a bathrobe, I'm lying in the ward
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And I tell you: "Save ..."
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Save...
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Save! |