Whether warm rains pours, whether snow falls
I am standing at the entrance facing your house
I wait, that you will go, but maybe you will not
Just for me to see you -- Oh, how happy I would be
Strange and funny, our world is made
the heart loves, but does not talk about its love
I live and do not know whether you love me or not
This is better than you confessing and hearing "no" in the answer
and I fear, from hearing "no"
I picked the song -- on the guitar
It is a pity that you do not hear it, because in it:
not hiding a sorrow -- I called you
the most tender and most beautiful, oh, and this is the truth!
In the darkness of the night, I write a poem
Let them repeat that anyone who is nineteen writes
In every line, only dots after the letters "L"
You understand of course, that everything I wanted to say
I wanted to say -- but I failed to
In the darkness of the night, I write a poem
Let them repeat that anyone who is nineteen writes
In every line, only dots after the letters "L"
You understand of course, that everything I wanted to say
But the snow melts -- in the spring always
maybe, to me -- you will say "yes"
But the snow melts -- in the spring always
maybe, to me -- you will say "yes"