Every bird has a deadline and milestones, sorry, don't regret,
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These stone eyelids are getting heavier every day,
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Every year it becomes more and more difficult to reconcile the old with new happiness,
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But do not beat fate into parts - let the past be yours.
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The richer the poorer
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What we keep, we are faithful to
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All that is - half a liter of heat, five yolk lamps,
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Yes, scrambled eggs are a palette of seven colored flip flops.
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Moreover, this city that spends the night at the door,
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Pick the fireplace powder with the pokers of the lanterns.
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And you will see early in the morning and until late:
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The sky is laying a self-assembly of whitish cloth,
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Go out to the Moika - whose groan is there?
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This city is not a table?
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Take a closer look: from each arch, from under each bridge
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He prophesies gifts for us, there will be a holiday anywhere.
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With carnival speeches in communal closeness,
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Yes, with rostral candles on Vasilyevsky cake.
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With kebabs of new buildings, with Peter and Paul stew,
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With the bitterest of tinctures - the Black River in the snow.
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Enough for everyone and bowls and dishes,
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Come on, noisy people.
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And they went to dance on the slopes, jump into the hole, row for the future.
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I want to swear, and a verse pours out of my throat.
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Architecture winds up, breaking out of the forests,
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To know that my crowd is not a fool - it smells, you bastard, a milky call.
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Eat everything, shred boldly - each creature has its own piece,
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Today death has buried itself and turned its temple,
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Blushed at the world -
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Apparently, it will end by morning,
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Shot in the forehead on the frontal place - and the night-kerza exploded -
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That frost puts caramels of partisans on the rails,
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Shot, bullets, wads, the ice is stirred red-hot,
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And in a hundred holes the moon multiplies its single fate.
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Legendary luminary, lonely callus,
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Vertical perspective - sugar from the sky, salt on the ground.
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Drink the Baltic to the bottom,
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Fishless salt is so delicious
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Tea from the Moyka, beer from the Fontanka, a handful of milk mushrooms from the Mushroom Canal -
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Peter sold out wonderfully to everyone - a sorcerer cook,
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Neva tablecloth starts a miracle table for a hundred miles,
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And the axis of winter salutes with champagne - the Bengal spire.
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Having eaten the smoke of Aurora and the Kazan pretzel,
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Silently, we will go out into the open spaces and continue, and begin.
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Let's continue life, let's start the year,
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Let's continue the year, let's start life.
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We see off the loss of the year that we met in debt,
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But we do not believe in our tears - only stars and gods.
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The dial, ready for battle, sugars around the edges,
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We take everything that is ours with us and bring it to give to friends.
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Happy New Year, new dream,
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With new bread and wine! |