Текст песни Редкая птица - Баллада о небесах

Vladimir Muromtsev

There was once a winged
And flying over the river, like a swift.
There was a boy once -
I grew the angular Malchish.
awkward wings
So disturbed to walk the earth.
And found a teacher,
He said: "Happy are those
Who does not look at the sky,
Who does not look at the sky.

So the truth are like
There have been quiet these words -
People climb from the skin,
To leave in the ground forever.
"I'm tired of ridicule," -
I renounce Malchish from heaven -
"I ask you, cut,
There's no wings, and the cross. "

All joints razyal
And wonderful bone removed.
Two scar cool down
Where white wings grew.
"It was not easy", -
He smiled a tired surgeon
feathered bones
Releasing hands.
He does not look at the sky,
He does not look at the sky.

The boy woke up soon,
I do not leave a trace memory.
It was air-sky,
And just as luck, earth,
On a production -
All that one can sell or eat,
Where is the reward not wings
A shaggy coat.
He does not look at the sky,
He does not look at the sky.