Oleg Gazmanov. My childhood (№ 327323)

My childhood, the paper boat,
My childhood - embarks on a journey.
You don't forget
My childhood - the boat goes in the fog
Across the ocean, to the blue winds.
<...>
Years ringing, the skin is thin,
Together soak grief is not a problem.
And I'm a little close with my mother,
Old boots stomp:
Here, here,
Here, here...
<...>
My childhood - an abandoned courtyard.
The old beggar asks for water
And I say in response: "Grandpa, drink,
But I will never die".
"No" - never, he will not say in response.