Снег идёт.(на английском)...

[Intro] (Instrumental - 15 seconds) Sound of wind, distant city hum, slow synth pads building up Snow is falling—and the city seems frozen. The hum of the cars has faded, replaced by silence. Time stands still, as if in a painting. Where only the snow draws its pattern. It flies above our heads. And within it lies an invisible, bright trace. It swirls, as if playing with us. Before melting at the border of years. Chorus: And the snow flies... and makes my head spin, Dissolving sadness in this white silence. The city sleeps, covered in fluffy clouds, This is time for me... and for my poems. And in this dance of white, quiet muses, I find a long-forgotten taste of childhood. The taste of freedom, choice, goodness— Where the play of time freezes. White dust swirled under the streetlamp again. As if someone were erasing yesterday&past. So many words left unsaid—a lump in my throat. But today, let them dissolve in that That creaks underfoot like simple earth. And let the wind whisper to me: "Have pity on yourself." I¬ a hero... and certainly not someone else&report. I&simply a person who... will have a pain and then it will pass. And if they ask me: "Where are you going?"—I&answer: "Home." Even if my "home" is an inner world... it is mine. Chorus: Snow is falling... Between me and the moon there&only snow, It covers up the traces of unfinished victories, Unspoken words and unnecessary grievances. The city is in white captivity—silent and sleepless. And I see a star...