1637

At sixteen, thirty seven time has gone .
Oh, what was the time
they knew his worth.
Believe that there are no ?
all heard or felt
paint roll with pictures
time asking to go ...
I let go ,
I die every time I see the wind
leaves to the sky lifts ,
hey , give mine!
You see, I myself is not enough!

Leaves harness - the sweet smell of death,
life bitter row ...
Leaves harness and hardly anyone will notice
is burning autumn, asleep by the fire .
Silence stisnet teeth
and only our voices ,

voices of birds,
somewhere already across the river !
Three - four - five , I'm going to look for spring , ay !

Oh, my dear, what you used to think ,
who will wipe your tears now
Now , when the night is longer than day ,
day and shorter nights ,
in short, everything is not the same now ...

voices
voices of birds,
not so the river ...
three - four - five , I'm going to look for spring , ay !

So, sixteen thirty seven.
God takes time.
He comes down from heaven ,
in pockets hides wonders.
He says that I can deliver a letter to you,
with white sail , which is returned
for many, many years ago
where everything is still alive , in the house where I lived ,
where our voices are heard ,

the voices of our birds
somewhere already across the river !
Three - four - five , I'm going to look for spring , ay !

voices
the voices of our birds
somewhere already across the river !
Three - four - five , I'm going to look for spring , ay !