Two guitars whined plaintively behind the wall
The tune memorable for my heart. “Sweetheart, is that you?”
Eh, once and once again,
And many many more times!
Wind, ﬁeld, cornﬂowers, distant road.
The heart is whining from yearning, there is anxiety in my soul
Where does it hurt? What hurts? – the head from hangover.
We drink today. We drink tomorrow. The whole week
Talk to me, my seven string guitar!
All my soul is full of you, and the night is full of moonlight.