Текст песни Kerner - Письмо Рыжей Слепому

They say: "The red has no soul."
So write, and ink and Braille.
We have grown from small to big, and realized that the book did not lie to us.

I remember you. You were crying in his sleep
from happiness to dream under the roof of the house.
I wanted so much to go to the outside, on the contrary - and be your slave.

Poor Jonathan.
He waited, they can wait only one gull: joy, guesses ...
You are all being dragged to his bed - and I studied the same habits.

I am an early age dreamed of one thing - that someone picked up and brought per page.
Whose voice is calling you back to the House?
When you realize that the forest is not a dream?

I grew up - do not ask questions. My letter, in so many words ...
Why?..
Fire Hair - ash crumble, dark eyes warm new hope.

He is worse than a cripple - it is beautiful.
And this is alien to all that is waiting outside the door.
This - I do not know, breathe out: "I'm sorry."
No newspaper summaries do not believe it.