Here are your eyes that they've seen before
|
How did you relax with the whole family on the coast?
|
I'll close them, and put nickels on my eyelids
|
with the coat of arms of the country that fools ruined.
|
Here are your teeth, they will gnash with anger,
|
then from the pain when the bones are broken,
|
then they are kicked out. |
Here is your swollen tongue
|
feel the taste of the books written on it.
|
Here are your lungs, how the filter will clog them with soot
|
burnt bodies in beds or in trenches.
|
Alcohol will impregnate the liver, do not turn off the wheelbarrow,
|
first for courage, then for the mention of the soul.
|
And here are your intestines, undigested porridge,
|
knuckles turned white, squeezing the Kalash.
|
Well, in general, everything is clear, only the date is incomprehensible -
|
This is how the pathologist opened himself up.
|
Where is your brother, Cain?
|
Hair on the pillow...
|
Where did you get the stone?
|
Listening voice...
|
There is no God, there is no God - you do not exist, bite!
|
The Third Rome cannot be saved, the geese have died.
|
One has only to illumine the Neva again with volleys from the Aurora,
|
you will also ask - am I my brother's keeper?
|
And the money that is not there - on the hut in cash from the colonel,
|
Yes, but the deceased doesn't need them.
|
The son of a Komsomol member, the grandson of a Bolshevik,
|
this is worse than the Cheka, Kolchak's counterintelligence.
|
It's about you not knowing how to take apart a machine gun
|
this is the commander in chief, who from a distant height could not pick up the guys.
|
I'm not kidding, then there will be no one to blame,
|
and where Yuri Shevchuk was, you guys weren't there.
|
And then you saw in the window, as if in a terrible dream -
|
the city is on fire, in the city people are on armor.
|
Bro, are you ours or one of these?
|
Revenge for the ninety-third.
|
And only time will put everything in its place here,
|
but the glaciers will melt, the poor will rise.
|
Where is your brother, Cain?
|
Hair on the pillow...
|
Where did you get the stone?
|
Listening voice...
|
There is no God, there is no God - you do not exist, bite!
|
The Third Rome cannot be saved, the geese have died. |