Текст песни Николай Заболоцкий - Болезнь

Patient, falling on the bed,
Hands can not lift.
Potted forefall forefall -
Sick twelve day sick.
In a dream, he sees someone's digging,
Stupid, dense, like oak.
Here the horse's horse opened,
Square put out tooth.
She gnaws empty flasks,
Leaning the Bible reads
Dancing, urinates in lochanks
And the voice of his wife is comfortable.

"Wife, you walked the girl.
Alas, my girlfriend,
Like skin gentle was
In the sides of your elastic!
Why did the horse become?
Circling in white monasses
And, by putting the candle,
Sherozy your bridle! "

But the horse beats, does not go,
On the contrary, she is pleased.
Even evening. Light Light Lieta
To the corner is a feast.
Rises pop among the yard,
He swears and strengthens strength,
Cast iron cross
Through the threshold rearranges.

The patient is better. Pop laughs
Having wrapped around in the Holy Academy.
The patient he wrapped out
Then the sachog eats the plates
Filled with barley porridge
And the horse calls him Mama.