Тёма Зимнуров - С Днём Рожденья,мама
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С ДНЁМ РОЖДЕНЬЯ,МАМА
Сегодня праздник у тебя,
А я,опять,вдали.
И,вновь открытка,а не я,
Прости меня,прости.
Когда ж фартуна колесо своё
Ко мне направит,
Чтоб каждый праздник,мама,твой
Я мог с тобою справить.
А,пока дорога вдаль,моя,бежит.
Далеко от дома суждено мне жить.
И я телеграмму,вновь,тебе пошлю:
"С Днём Рожденья,мама!Я тебя люблю!"
Сегодня старше стала ты,на год.
И это факт.
Отец и дети младшие,
Вновь,разведут очаг.
И праздничный накроют стол,
А старшие вдали.
Сынок в пути,дочь замужем.
Прости же,мам,прости.
А,пока дорога вдаль,моя,бежит.
Далеко от дома суждено мне жить.
И я телеграмму,вновь,тебе пошлю:
"С Днём Рожденья,мама!Я тебя люблю!"
И,путника с кем по пути
Я попрошу присесть.
Накрою скромный дастархан,
Скажу,что повод есть.
И тост произнесу я свой:
"Родная,за тебя!"
И буду пьян под сенью дня.
Прости же,мам,меня.
А,пока дорога вдаль,моя,бежит.
Далеко от дома суждено мне жить.
И я телеграмму,вновь,тебе пошлю:
"С Днём Рожденья,мама!Я тебя люблю!"
Happy Birthday, Mom
Today is your holiday,
And I, again, away.
And, again the postcard, and not me,
Forgive me, sorry.
When Fountuna Wheel Wheel
To me will send
So that every holiday, mom, your
I could play with you.
And while the road is the distance, mine, runs.
Far from home is destined to live.
And I am a telegram, again, will send you:
"Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!"
Today, older than you, for a year.
And this is a fact.
Father and children younger
Again, they divorce the focus.
And the festive will cover the table
And the older away.
Son on the way, daughter married.
Forgive me, moms, sorry.
And while the road is the distance, mine, runs.
Far from home is destined to live.
And I am a telegram, again, will send you:
"Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!"
And, traveler with whom along the way
I will ask to sit down.
I will cover a modest dastarkhan,
I will say that there is a reason.
And I will pronounce your toast:
"Native, for you!"
And I will be drunk under the seven of the day.
Forgive, Mom, me.
And while the road is the distance, mine, runs.
Far from home is destined to live.
And I am a telegram, again, will send you:
"Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!"
Today is your holiday,
And I, again, away.
And, again the postcard, and not me,
Forgive me, sorry.
When Fountuna Wheel Wheel
To me will send
So that every holiday, mom, your
I could play with you.
And while the road is the distance, mine, runs.
Far from home is destined to live.
And I am a telegram, again, will send you:
"Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!"
Today, older than you, for a year.
And this is a fact.
Father and children younger
Again, they divorce the focus.
And the festive will cover the table
And the older away.
Son on the way, daughter married.
Forgive me, moms, sorry.
And while the road is the distance, mine, runs.
Far from home is destined to live.
And I am a telegram, again, will send you:
"Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!"
And, traveler with whom along the way
I will ask to sit down.
I will cover a modest dastarkhan,
I will say that there is a reason.
And I will pronounce your toast:
"Native, for you!"
And I will be drunk under the seven of the day.
Forgive, Mom, me.
And while the road is the distance, mine, runs.
Far from home is destined to live.
And I am a telegram, again, will send you:
"Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!"
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