kommunikaция - я люблю её - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I love her. I haven't grown weaker in three years.

Sleepy cities, ships embrace, with their docks.

I love her, as if on purpose. I love her by chance - with the beating of my heart and trains, the cage of my ribs, the flight of seagulls.

With my most acute sadness, the strange happiness of simply being silent.

On sleepy mornings, at the speed of day, on star-filled nights.

In gentle whispers before bed, growling something in the paddocks...

I love her - forever. That means - right now.

...

Ashes fall from a cigarette, the residential areas dream of something.

You know, I'm still amazed at how beautiful she is.

She has so much tender strength, warmth, hope, love...

Where was the photographer who could capture all this so honestly and bring it to life?

We almost broke up here; someone hit me in the face. Only a shard of mirror, the traces of my own fists, burns the essence.

And actually, I'm not like that, but what can I do, desu,

if a blind fool imagined the oppression of shackles?

I haven't written to her for so long, I thought I'd never write again.

I listened to the noise and didn't hear the music, saw a shadow without noticing the sun.

Everyday life is eating away at our love. I ask for one thing now:

that there will always be enough moments for happiness when she laughs.

A sheaf of emotions can be set ablaze, a house can be filled with bread,

where the stars shining within us are visible under a cloudy ceiling.

I can only be happy if we are both happy.

Three years ago, I came to the warmth of her kind eyes.

We chopped off the heads of the hydras, our cramped, ridiculous enclosures.

We always loved to win and hated the cold. We laughed along with everyone else—passengers in Charon's boat,

surrendering ourselves to the current of Lethe, like the avenues of our hometown.

Only hydras die of hunger, only tears are honored.

How can one cleanse oneself of filth, ignoring everyday life for the hundredth time?

Again, I remain silent to the question; perhaps poetry will answer.

Maybe there's only one rule: that we all know how to love?

Cars will drive into parking lots, planes will hide their landing gear.

I love. She had the strength to stop the downward plunge,

which my soul had accomplished; and what more could I ask for?

She was truly worth waiting for, clinging to the word "life."

I don't know who will sing if everyone finally falls asleep.

But I have someone to embrace, in whose arms I can find refuge.

I love with autumn rain, with white snow awaiting spring...

I love with words in my chest, somewhere on the left. Do you hear? - right here.