Текст песни Вера Полозкова читает стихотворение Дмитрия Быкова - На самом деле...

Tags: Dmitry Bykov
Music : Yann Tiersen - Comptine d'un autre été l'après midi

In fact, I only like you ,
my ideal and my yardstick .
In all my women were your features ,
and it is to them I mirilo .
While you're there , obedient to their own passions ,
fly between Orsay and the Prado -
I can tell you put together piece by piece.
It sounds awful, but it's true .
A snub-nosed , the other with a birthmark on his back,
third can all take for granted.
One worships the soul in itself , the other - in me
( together no longer come across ) .
One like you to sweat from his forehead with a lock ,
other forever lost keys ,
and that I never could have one all to assemble -
because God does not repeat mistakes .
And even your soul , to which you
kept me three times through all the hurdles -
stayed here , embodied in all living flowers
and all faulty phones.
Are you afraid that I will miss here ,
handouts offering himself .
And showers , and prices , and these suicide bombers , and Rospechat ?
God be with you , you're with me , my dear