Translated by maggienow,
http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=maggienow
Tonia (T): Sit and calm down.
Zhivago (Z): You know I... I'm scared. I am really very scared. Last week I did an autopsy... I don't know... even trough the rubber gloves I felt something. But I can't explain it.
T: Then leave it.
Z: What?... University?
T: Yes. Exactly. Or move to the philology faculty and write your poems.
Z: No, no, no... It's not possible.
T: But why?
Z: Because.... I need to do something... need to...
T: And your poems?
Z: No... and frankly I hate poets.
T: You do?
Z: I do. Especially those whom Shura Schlezinger brings here...
T: What about the others? Blok, for exemple... What's written in an ancient book? "Doctor, heal yourself".
/stands up on the sofa/
Z: And where is the Holy Trinity?
T: I think you have a fever...
/Z kisses T/
No, it's not a fever. You have... a liver echinococcus....
Z: Ah... have a good night.
T: More exactly.... good morning...
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