Текст песни Сергей Яковенко - Соловьи Серебряного бора

verses by Peter Wegin "Nightingales of Silverpine Forest"

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Let's go listen to nightingales
in Serebryany Bor,
where no silver
no, except for the nightingale trill.
There is no one for nature
who would not be to her court
at the end of the century, or rather -
At the end of the week.

Forget urgent things
worries and spleen.
The nightingale's work is clean, invisible and lonely.
We didn’t gather at a feast,
life is not like a game
but if the nightingale is whistling,
then there’s no epilogue in life.

Like sinners before the altar
we are in front of a nightingale.
His silver embroidery
silence is embroidered, like a fur coat.
Let's take a chance, let's dare
and in life we’ll sew holes
his needle is silver, silent.

It is getting dark on the Moscow River.
On a nightingale draft
let’s air the souls
so that the pain subsided.
Soul with soul, hand in hand,
back to the city light
people's language
hardly remembering ...