Седьмой лепесток (Sed'moy lepestok) (traducción al Inglés)
traducción al InglésInglés
Vanilla scent, sweet cotton clouds
Are floating over me, vanishing in the distance
Vines are braiding themselves
Leaving smiles and a few tears behind.
And the rain is drawing on the windows
Reminding me of your kisses
The thing is that the rain doesn't take any chances
But I fear I lost you.
I miss you so much
I am very sick, on the brink of dying
But you're somewhere, you won't find out anything
And I fear I lost you.
You're walking down the Malaya Ordynka Street, I'm walking down the Khreshchatyk
We won't find ourselves on gay pictures
We were left with, perhaps it's luck,
Mountains of broken happiness and the seventh petal.
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