Рита Кернер - Три ангела и поэт
текст песни

There was one poet sad,
His story on the evil day.
Verse wrote the magnificent
Sad to the past man.

Where the line is crossing
He is loneliness rejected.
His soul is very dumb;
He remembers sunny Thursday.

Among the crowd of dirty people
He met one other.
That is also a glorious guide
He was drunk forever without alcohol.

And their conversation quickly revived;
Tea rushed, like words, river.
The hero of our friend - Fidget,
It did not have sadness, nor longing.

In the sky stars danced,
Their whirl dance started.
Beds are lonely empty -
The poet of happiness spoke.

That night sleepless suddenly
His souls touched something ...
Tied to a friend is irretrievably,
From now on forever and forever.

And an angel of cereal and cheerful
He was a satellite poet everywhere.
Life ceased to be hard -
The poet was grateful to the miracle.

Poet and angel hand in hand walked
By the world, laughing.
Hopefully boldly in the souls sad instilled,
Failing each other to lose ...

To the poet personally cereal
Loved a familiar aristocrat.
View of Tomny She was and dull -
Light in the eyes would be a bright stool ...

She kept straight and afraid to stupid,
Before the poet, the girl played.
It was afraid to go to a friend
And feelings idle hid.

One beautiful early in the morning
Aristocrat stayed
In despair, a little vague
She did not start the game.

The poet heard her tears,
Helped her mask break.
And leading to unprecedented garbage,
Forced to stop playing.

And girl with posture
Suddenly he turned into seraphim.
No more than that aristocrat
Master of gloomy, noticeable.

And three of them already:
Three more: Angels and my speaker.
On the top floor
They got the lunar craft.

The poet was happy if:
He was no longer alone.
So it happens: he spontaneously
Your sadness overwall.

Oh, a new day, how beautiful you are!
How guys your fresh look.
Today there will be a lot of bachen:
The poet is our inspiration.

And the angels, waking up, smiled.
He is happy to see them always.
In the smiles of their desires came true
Prayers are also sometimes.

The poet retired over the paper,
But the thought of him is not.
Let it be a bold poor
His hero, as in that movie.

Knocking on the door it is so loud
As if the devils on the heels go.
"Are you a wanderer Ali Stranger?
Will my soul pick up? "

But on the threshold before the poet
The sad man appeared.
He scared even a silhouette:
As if he wandered a century.

Loved poet angel black
Smith beauty was satisted.
All feelings tender gave he
And the feats of sake peak.

But the heart of our poet
So prone to doubt ...
And it remembered how in summer
He loved to hide from the crowd.

The hero is weakening with time
Under the onslaught of love.
By calling all this by Bremen,
His desire killed.

Sad warrior with black wings
Needed that love poet
What does not subscribe and over the years ...
Love, which is simply no.

Who will promptly tell me?
Who to pray to the speaker?
Who will tell him the right path,
Be sober forever or sleep?

As a result, he, as a pilgrim,
Let's go to the distant country.
And he is great that they invisible,
Will tell him one thing ...

Golden angel wakes up
In ordinary affairs.
And the voice of his such radiant
The poet will not distinguish.

In the impulse of anger of our hero
Run on the second girlfriend.
Everywhere eternal turmozhnye,
But it is cold in the district.

The poet loved. He loved, stuck.
And the black wings were his angel.
His eyes did not see him, so firmly stuck
And the world should be great.

Closing her face with hands, our writer
Lighted in the midst of everything that has accumulated.
For all, he died like a lifeguard:
"Save yourself at first, and then the world! .."

Reader, do not have a threat to the poet:
Not so much to blame the hero.
Suddenly sound symphonytta
And our life is difficult ...

That old man, which helped with