Текст песни Алексей Никонов - Жар пламени..

from the poem "Macbeth"

Heat of the flames ...
Guts out ...
The whole yard littered with corpses.
Transparent star shines above the castle.
All I see clearly ...
Black, red ...
And worms fat in front of the dead ...
Macduff called the British betrayed ... all ...
Their country ... me ... who else?
I'm for it - a monster, killer ...
Dirty moralist ...
What is virtue? .. Blood everywhere!
But I will not give up.
Let the winner wrote the play.
I will not chew on the ground
Before Malcolm and Macduff.
Suppose you are not born a woman,
And someone's good spirit.
I can see clearly - the night will be held
And the stars will fall into space.
I feel sick to your morals as well
How do you
From my life is terrible.
Vaughn corpse that crouched
Lying in the corner.
Eyes bulging,
In a pool of blood.
From it stinks.
Disgusting spectacle.
But he - the hero. Is not it?
Everything stinks
In the arms of death.
There are no exceptions.
And that tells you Macbeth -
Here, everyone fancies himself a decent?
But the point?
Corpses stink equally.
Well, twenty, thirty years.
This left - forty.
But still stink in the coffin.
With shame, no shame,
Rich, poor, good, evil ...
A dead body froze.
In the eyes glassy - emptiness
And indifference. He does not care
That won kindness
In that play.
Mocks the poet!
My sword in my hand, I hear a song.
I - Tan Cawdor. I - Macbeth.

19.00. 24.03.11