Текст песни Филигон - История одного колхоза

Once, I remember, at our farm
Someone brought a city
Many interesting books.
And one of them was
We are especially sweet,
It was written by the professor.
Not on formulas wonderful,
Not on earth satellites,
Not about sinuses and fractions,
And about how in the early days
He wakes up in a hole
The terrible beast nicknamed hobbit.

So I began to dream:
It would be nice to become a gnome
And plow on the farm mountain.
Brother has come for the hobbit,
His wife, like an elf, singing,
But the mother-in-law just Gollum.
Suddenly out of the cellar into the courtyard,
Taking an ax in one hand,
And the other clutching a pitchfork,
Out old Nicanor,
He says: & quot; I Fëanor,
Give Silmarils! & Quot;

Here it is started!
I divide the whole farm
Those in favor of the dark, who is behind the light.
The same night, full of skunk
Written & quot; Uruk Khazad! & Quot;
At the gate of the village council.
Prickled lake
There's omnipotence ring
Together looking for pioneers.
It was decided to vote
To rename
Our farm in & quot; Testament Era & quot ;.

Agronomist Intermedia fields
He wants instead of poplars
Plant telperiony.
We're talking Quenya,
Instead mat Sindarin:
There are idioms!
Lenin took the portrait,
Signed: & quot; Elbereth & quot;
And let's pray for him!
Worried about a question:
If so stuck farm,
What is happening in the city?