Твардовская - Он... - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

He just put his hand on my leg, just above the knee, and I still, more than 1.5 years later, have small electrical charges running through my skin. We sat in class and talked, I was once again in love with another person, and for some reason the choice of my heart fell on him. It was terribly cold outside, the windows were fogged up and in some places covered with silver patterns. There were at most 50 people in the school, and even those were the bravest. The teacher diligently and enthusiastically told and dictated something to those 7 people sitting in the class who came to study in such cold, and we sat, talked and laughed. I don’t remember now what was discussed or what topics were touched upon, but I remember how his hand touched my knee and how goosebumps spread from my limbs to my shoulder blades. I sat there, afraid to breathe, afraid to blink or even move the slightest bit. It seemed to me that everything that was happening suddenly became somehow unreal and unreal. That everything is about to fall into pieces and I will find myself in my room with an empty cup of tea at hand. The fact is that no one has ever (with the exception of my few relatives and a close friend) touched me so tenderly and at the same time casually carefree. In general, in life I don’t like and don’t allow it when people I don’t like touch me. And since the people I like do not touch me or limit themselves to a pat on the shoulder or a farewell hug, then in the end almost no one has ever touched me from strangers. And he certainly didn’t put his hand on my knee. He did not consider it necessary to explain such an outrageous gesture to someone, and I was so sweetly amazed that I tried not to even breathe. And we all sat in a warm classroom, peacefully chatting about something, and outside the window January painted his fantastic designs on transparent canvases.