| And in our youth, where did not carry us!
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| Into what waters we did not wander!
|
| But the time for high-profile weddings is over,
|
| Replaced by the proud time of divorces.
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| String, and brush, and eternal pen -
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| We are eternal brothers in this world!
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| Of all the crafts, let us sing goodness,
|
| Of all the crafts, I will sing goodness!
|
| Of all the hugs, children's hugs.
|
| Over the years, we divorced for good
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| With what seemed like a golden shadow,
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| And it turned out, in essence, nothing -
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| Participation in everything and vanity.
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| But we are accompanied like pages,
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| The river, and the forest, and the leaf that fell under my feet,
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| Forgiving us all our lives
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| With the patience of our close relatives.
|
| String, and brush, and eternal pen -
|
| We are eternal brothers in this world!
|
| Of all the crafts, let us sing goodness,
|
| Of all the crafts, I will sing goodness!
|
| Of all the hugs, children's hugs.
|
| And strange - but grace descends
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| From the sad times of movement,
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| When it's easier to write a song
|
| How to describe the process of versification.
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| We did the best we could
|
| Whatever they say about us,
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| We even got off the ground
|
| And in this they found perfection.
|
| String, and brush, and eternal pen -
|
| We are eternal brothers in this world!
|
| Of all the crafts, let us sing goodness,
|
| Of all the crafts, I will sing goodness!
|
| Of all the hugs, children's hugs. |