31 lines
750 B
Plaintext
31 lines
750 B
Plaintext
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On the streets of our capital
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On the streets of our capital
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I came a young festival.
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And joy light face,
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And the stars shone distance.
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I rejoice every minute,
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When I am with you,
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I rejoice every, every hour,
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Which was presented by fate!
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Gone with the busiest areas
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We are in the park, and bredom on the grass.
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Perhaps a hundred thousand lovers
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We will meet in Moscow today.
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Distant sounds of the orchestra
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Float and are carried away ...
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Oh, if only a week, last week,
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Could festival night!
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/ Orchestral loss /
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But with each passing minute, I know,
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Closer separation from you,
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When leaving Moscow,
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You sad mahnosch my hand.
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Bitter and sad parting,
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When parting, love.
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But what would not happen - I believe, I believe -
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What to see you again! 1957
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