| The dog barked. |
| Passersby neighed.
|
| The old man scratched his beard sadly.
|
| This is me singing a beautiful song -
|
| this feat is neither to the village nor to the city.
|
| There is no point. |
| However, there is no harmony
|
| in my empty lamentations.
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| Sing and drink. |
| What else am I allowed
|
| time for others not to get attention?
|
| Sing and drink. |
| Pour into glasses
|
| my youth, to brave exploits.
|
| This is for girls, and this is for boys -
|
| I don't do special discounts.
|
| The circus is gone. |
| And the clown does not steam:
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| if there were a spectator, the arena would follow.
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| It's funny to you? |
| My God, I like it
|
| this bullshit stuffed face!
|
| Oh, how much of me. |
| Ah, how virtuous.
|
| What I don't do is all intentional.
|
| I probably don't even feel ashamed
|
| dance you a striptease near a tree.
|
| This is how I will become a theory of success
|
| as I walk through the streets with a fresh parable ...
|
| To get one heel into history,
|
| all you have to do is be a fool!
|
| Go out into the world in a sarafan,
|
| call your days forget-me-nots,
|
| wrap a couple of thoughts in anapaests,
|
| surprise with aphorisms, jokes
|
| Yes, a set of quotes from Tsvetaeva
|
| (hops mixed with sawdust in the head).
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| Well, who likes me like this -
|
| cut with a knife and eat with forks.
|
| Rough? |
| Gently? |
| - Everything is the same for me!
|
| If only everyone was undressed and touched.
|
| If only the heart would laugh and cry
|
| a small demon from a still pool...
|
| And then I will return to my Kupchino,
|
| dial the emergency number...
|
| And I'll wake up on Monday thoughtful.
|
| And on Tuesday the resurrection will come.
|
| August 2007
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| poems - Anna Ezhova,
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| music — Anna Ezhova (vocals),
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| Dmitry Savrasov (guitars, shaker),
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| Mikhail Bukin (bass guitar)
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| Yuri Karnakov (sound engineering, mixing, mastering, tambourine) |