Sing me a song in your language
So that I don't understand anything.
So that I have only the language of love,
I will remember only your tenderness.
Sing to me about love and home,
About the pink spring dawn
And the thick white fog.
Who sleeps in the morning in a ravine.
Sing to me about the birds,
That they fly
Through the blue sky,
Returning to their homes,
Albeit modest and gray.
Sing me a song in your language...
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