for me when i was sick, read poetry to me, we had a translation, yes, in the translation by pastornak marshakon the moon, they read dunno to me on the moon, but somehow my mother felt very bad about me, she took it and started reading poetry to me byron and i... liked it so much it sunk into my soul that i remembered this when i had already started to come up with music, look for some lyrics, preferably based on this music or this text by byron himself, but i couldn’t come up with it myself, you know, but once... i tried it and it fits rhythm, and i just laid it down and it turned out to be oesa’s song, let’s take it now, let’s sing, let’s sing, let’s sing. oh, if in the bustle of the day i lose your image for a sweet hour alone. at night, he will return with the same strength, and it is a matter of my pride, keep your image sacred in your soul, among forgetful friends, to be faithful to you as before. how once upon a time, forgive me, sometimes, among strangers, i am laughing and careless, in the bustle of empty speeches, you seem to be forgotten, but you... don’t believe my words, which thr