Текст песни 1056 - Машина Времени - Посвящение театру

From a long year
I loved not a performance,
And soon the preparation for the play.
I watched like a wave
The movement of a single river arose.
Kings and princesses dressed in cardboard
And under the beard painted the pass.
Director west burned,
and from happiness and pain
Squeezed fists.
Even the most radar actor for me was the subject of a silent delight.
He worked wonders
He played someone's complicated
soulful conflict.
I have since not used to share them
On the second and first grade actors.
After all, they are us
And the gap between us
Not so great.
And sometimes I'm ironing
We are the actors of the Bolshoi Theater.
Only here the director has endured
Somewhere on the moment
And disappeared.
And the ability to play
Due, in essence,
Personal talent.
But no one will say
What a play,
And the final will come soon.
Know how many acts
And how many intermission them,
And what will end all
And what a moral will arrive in the final,
And so that someone said:
Your role is fulfilled so.
But no one will say
And tired actors,
So sincere sorry.