Ah, that old gramophone
standing in the dust in the corner of the barn,
sadly in my heart remembering
how was he ever needed ...
And in the black box the soul
trembles, sadly not killed,
and sings "Rio Rita",
breathing memories ...
"Amur Waves" motive sounds,
spinning in a whirlwind of a pair of waltz ...
Oh, you're not old at all,
my gramophone, don't be silent ...
Do not be silent, my gramophone,
ringing in the soul, memories
and in the most reverent confessions
under the notes of a crystal chime ...
Oh, don't be silent, my gramophone ...
