«Мой Бог» «My God» Михаил Круг (Михаил Владимирович Воробьёв) 1998 г. (cover with Mikhail Krug)

«My God» Mikhail Krug 1998 A chord, the strings barely tremble on the guitar, The piano is silent, the flute is broken. You played me a song of your own accord, I regret that I didn't know you before. You are the rain that soaked a tramp to the skin, You are the sun that immediately warmed, A string on Paganini's violin, You are the honey that quickly makes me drunk. Madame, without you the decor is shabby, Madame, there's not enough space for you in Paris, Madame, you are so insanely beautiful, Madame, you are far from Russia. You are a dream from which I cannot awaken, You are a rose in the exquisite Parisian style, You are a captivity from which I cannot return, You are the wind, so long-awaited in the calm. I am yours, I tenderly kiss your hands, And my lips touch your silky skin, Paris, children draw you on the pavement, Mon cher, how you look like a queen. Madame, without you the decor is shabby, Madame, you lack space in Paris, Madame, you are so insanely beautiful, Madame, you are far from Russia. Madame, without you the decor is shabby, Madame, you lack space in Paris, Madame, you are so insanely beautiful, Madame, you are far from Russia.