В.Воронов - Посвящение младшему сыну
текст песни

Victor Voronov

(His poem written at 6 years old,
prompted to write this dedication - if
do not consider its stubborn development of the flute:
Temporarily pregnant cats
We announced the parish of spring.
My cat is sleeping on the window
And looks about cats dreams)

Do not cry, flutist, do not cry,
Not our time yet
And the burden of failures
Interferes - leg in the stirrup
And jump to rush inon
The melodies are sad
Or sit in someone else's carriage
At the station random.

Or sit in someone else's car ...
Do not cry, flutist, do not cry ...

Do not cry, flutist, do not cry,
There will be no comfort.
Kalach has long dried up
And the simplicity of decisions
You can't buy it, you will not sell
You can't beg for the dead
But our eighth floor
You have already become small for you.

But our eighth floor ...
Do not cry, flutist, do not cry ...

Do not cry, flutist, do not cry,
Play yourself freely
From faith, to love,
Although this is not fashionable.
What are they?
Hope lives in you
That our days are eternal
And do not close the beliefs.

That our days are eternal ...
Play, flutist, play ...