Текст песни Визбор - Блажен, кто поражен летящей пулей.

Blessed is he who struck a flying bullet
Which the enemies it pulnul
And lay on the grass by the river
Watch as the life of the victim follows.
Oh, that death is not the worst,
But compared with the life - trivia!

Blessed is he whose help in this matter
Poluznakomka young in bed
From the tribe of vagrants jeans.
It was then a case uncover the reasons
Worthy share for men
Leave the bottom, without lowering the flag.

Blessed is he who passes the hospital blood,
Where the City Council will not allow to view
Strained efforts of doctors
And the outlines of distant relatives
Already deprived of charm
Because of the overflow of the eyes.

About as diverse transitions
Under the new dubious vaults.
How easy descent into the subway sad,
Where a lot of shadows we find
Battles striking weapon,
Which name - the pen.

Iron, goose, steel
For thirty-six cents a purchased.
It is worse than a bullet on the fly.
Him in the darkness of his soul Macau
High forehead someone pierce
And then write on a sheet of red.

But the torment tormented inactivity,
Bite feathers our anonymous,
Yesterday the pages - now slanderers,
Optional finished school
Ignatius Loyola teacher,
His favorite pupils.

Blessed is he who kept the fun frets,
This reproach opponents award
And an old friend spilled blood,
Who believe in the light of hope indelible,
What we love passes unloved,
Anyway, as the favorite dislike.