Текст песни Олег Иванович Даль - Почему я люблю вот эти затворенные дворы...

Why do I like these here
Zatvorёnnye yards ...
There is no longer the children play
Do not grind axes.
Not snowstorm sweeps at dawn,
Do not turns on snow tights,
Not wheeze in the morning hurdy-gurdy,
And it does not smell sour wine.

It has been given and has recently ...
The creaking of the sledge, horses wheeze,
Grey wall painting,
And on them, as in Japanese Teatrika,
Single shadows of people.

Why am I so good
Gaze rests on the wall?

Maybe it's my time?
And now my memory captive ?!
Nedovystroenny stained glass window ...
So like a veil ...
now that a mirage? ..

There I lived, died and suffered,
Climbing on your floor.