ОЛЕГ ЛАВРОВ - МУЗЫКАНТ
текст песни

There lived one musician in the world
Blind, but happy:
He had a faith in his heart,
Like large holy wings.
And also wore tired
Not clothes, not bread, not gold,
And the guitar - what he was rich in.

He was young and cheerful:
He, not seeing the earthly road,
He led people along the heavenly path,
Singing the psalms about God.
And when his fingers only
Strings touched - pierced loudly
Song in the heart of hot arrow,
And the soul was filled with crying!

So, having entered an unknown city,
He sang in the square about the sky.
And the square was filled with people,
Like a grave in a harvest - bread.
On this day in the palace of the nobleman
A noble feast will take place.
One was not enough only:
The musician to the speeches of the table.

There is an orchestra at the nobleman palace -
For funny and noisy dances;
Only the heart cannot touch
None of his musicians.
Here, he sits in thoughts of bitter ones,
Suddenly, one of his courtiers
Permits about the word asks
And he reports about the poor blind.

"Give!" cried the nobleman
And he sent a soldier with the court.
Here, they go to the square,
And they go through the crowd quickly.
Approaching the musician lightly
They knocked on the shoulder with a palm.
The song is marvelous stopped
And the musician asked: "What happened?"

Like an unexpected thunder, sounds:
"Get ready, but quickly!"
And grabbed him under his arms ...
Meanwhile, already guests
They took places in the living room;
And the master is noble on the heart
I waited for the denouement very pleasant.

The beginning of the feast was announced.
The gaze of nobles from the doors does not bring.
Suddenly the soldiers hastily
They come in with the musician blind.
Silence reigned suddenly.
“Mr.! We found a musician!
How he sang - the townspeople were wondering! " -
And, leaving him, they retired.

"Listen to friend!" - turned the nobleman, - -
“I know, my heart can make
Your guitar is wolled.
But I know that everywhere
Only about God you sing to people ... "
And his voice sounded strictly:
"Play us about love, not about God!"

“Anger to your soul does not bother
Mr.! - The musician answered. -
Can I not praise it,
Who put these psalms in their hands?! "
Surrendered with a tender smile, -
His voice flowed with a song.
“God is love! I'm playing about that
And I don't know another love! "

Before guests with such an answer
The nobleman proud was shameful,
He scattered: “You are these hands
You lose, insolent, today!
Guard! - shouted, - take him,
And today deprive your hands!
Let no one dares anymore
Turn over to my will! "

“So this pleases God,”
The musician answered calmly, -
I sang a lot to him
And, probably, already enough ...
Only before the execution is done,
While life is in hand,
Mr., I ask you to allow
I have the last to fulfill the last song! "

“Take off! He cried out again. -
And now we will continue the fun! "
But the Homon rose in the living room:
Guests wanted to listen to the singer!
And he measured his anger of the nobleman,
And he said to the musician: "You can!"
The guests in the huge hall fell silent,
As if listening, they did not breathe ...

And the blind raised his eyes to the sky
And he said: “God, mine! Glue!
I am more expensive than pressing bread
Strings for your glory to touch! "
The guitar rang in the hands,
And sang and sobbed,
His voice poured with a song
About the wonderful country of heaven ...

When the fingers stopped
On the last chord of songs,
This music echoed,
Filling every heart.
And no one dared with a movement
To cut off the silence of the circle ...
The musician, the psalm execution,
He held out his palms in front of him ...

But the nobleman, hiding the tears,
Asked: "Who taught you to songs?"
And the musician said: “My God is alive!
My teacher is heavenly father! ”
And the owner of the feast rose:
“Your God is alive, musician! Go in the world! "
"Again, mercy from above was sent to me!" -
The musician said and went out.