Текст песни Александр Градский - Зимнее утро

(Boris Pasternak)

It is not in his right mind,
As children of disobedience,
Licking, night
Jokingly we dried.

Sometimes, not looking
From the pages of seizures
Before morning trams,
He threatened the dawn be drunk.

had pitched cotton
Snowball used to finch
Noise By what stopper
Such a face burned?

And the day rose, oplesnyas,
The hot rubbish pit
In the circles of fire escapes,
Bruised firewood.