Текст песни Алексей Горшенев - Письмо от матери

What to me
Now come up with
What now
Also write to me?
In front of me
On the table gloomy
Lies a letter
What my mother sent me.

She writes to me:
"If you can,
Come, darling,
To us at Christmas time.
Buy me a shawl
Buy ports to your father,
In our house
Big flaws.
I don't like fear
What are you a poet
What are you friends
With bad glory.
Much better b
From an early age
You went to the field for soy.
Stara i became
And really bad
But if at home
Was you from the beginning
I have
There would be a daughter-in-law now
And on the foot
Grandchild I rocked.
But you children
Lost in the world
His wife
Easy to give to another
And without family, without friendship,
No berth
You with your head
He went to the tavern pool.
My beloved son,
What's the matter?
You were so meek
He was so humble.
And he all vied with one another:
How happy
Alexander Yesenin!
Our hopes are in you
Not come true
And at heart
From that sick and bitter
What about father
It was a vain thought
To poetry
You took more money.

At least how much would you
None took
You will not send them to the house,
And therefore so bitter
Speech is flowing
What do i know
In your experience:
Money is not given to poets.

I don't like fear
What are you a poet
What are you friends
With bad glory.
Much better b
From an early age
You went to the field for soy.

Now sheer sadness
We live in darkness.
We do not have a horse.
But if you were in the house
That would be all
And with your mind -
Chairman post
In the executive committee.
Then it would be bolder
Nobody would pull us
And you would not know
Unnecessary fatigue
I would make
Spin
Your wife
And you, like a son,
Rested in our old age. "
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I crumple a letter
I'm plunging into horror.
Really no way out
In my treasured way?
But all I think
I'll tell you later.
I will tell
In the response letter ...

Are you still alive, my old woman?
I am alive. Hello to you, hello!
Let it flow over your hut
That evening untold light.
They write to me that you, melting the alarm,
Saddened a lot about me
What do you often go on the road
In an old fashioned old shushun.
And to you in the evening blue gloom
Often one sees the same thing:
Like someone in a tavern fight
Sadanul under the heart of a Finnish knife.
Nothing, dear! Take it easy.
This is only painful delirium.
Not so bitter I'm a drunk
So that without seeing you die.
i'm still the same gentle
And I only dream about
So soon from the rebellious longing
To return to our low house.
I'll be back when the branches are up
In spring, our white garden.
Only you at dawn
Do not wake up like eight years ago.
Do not wake what was celebrated
Do not worry that did not come true -
Too early loss and fatigue
I have come to experience in life.
And pray do not teach me. Do not!
There is no more return to the old.
You are my one help and joy
You are one untold light to me.
So forget about your anxiety
Don't be so sad about me.
Don't go so often on the road
In old