Author of quotes: Elena Genrikhovna Guro

I'm sorry that I sing about you, the coastal side,
You are so proud.
I'm sorry I suffer for you
When people do not notice your beauty,
Gonna rape you and cut your forest.
You're so far
And is not available.
Your soul is fading like the glitter -
Your Gulf
When you see him close at his feet.
I'm sorry I came and disrupted -
The purity, of your loneliness,
You are a Royal.

Come, come lisenachka,
my son,
have provencals small-malenechko
my day, my day.
Come, cuddle ninachka
on the hour, on the hour.
My heart skipped a beat,
my son, my son.
From my hand the whip fell
he laughs buddy:
polenilsya I was little.
Yes, a little-malenechko
my day.

Ah, the days of the days of toil!
Who to the wind has scattered?
- Crazy!
It's nobody smart
my days are not picked up.
And do not pick up
and will not bring
to my mom.
Mommy, mommy, mommy, don't
I days something will pick up
I am on the sea bright will run after them.
I'm happy!
I promised my mother my severe.
My mom is strict - exactly-in-exactly
I like the day - it is like night!

Here sings the road.
My dear - here.
So I myself!
And I took the reins,
Oh, homeland!
I took the gun.
Here - and mother.
Do not grieve, do not grieve, mother,
blew out a large wind -
do not grieve, do not cry, mother.
The stone road began,
pine noise.
The wind on, on drove the neighborhood.
Don't cry, mother.
Homeland, homeland - the land
you are one mother.
For you I left.
Do not grieve, do not grieve, mother,
don't cry, mother.

Don't cry, don't pity me, mother,
You don't ruin their glasock.
Far stretched the road on the road.
Don't break hands!
You don't ruin the old eyes!
You have a son will not be lost
you have a son Cade
you have a son, a young the cobblestones,
you have a son is a young sprig,
and the young branch, fluffy
bending and not breaking.
You don't break hands, mother,
and grab the bucket.
I'm always for you carried water.
Don't cry, mother,
And take the ax.
I'm stoked heat the stove
and you have my ax hands are small.
Ah-on! Native land sings.

Above us, frachnyh, corset, starch,
you sang the song of the Motherland.
You're one of us, frachnyh, corset,
coaxed the air is frosty homeland.
Here from the naked neck girls
came out of the lake, salute with frost.
That red ear men
he released the cloud and part of the forest
and the woman was released from the head of the pine,
and I the road and the guy in the boots.
Came moss from bogs and frost.
Flew in the snow the wood-sledge - Ah-on!
Flew Celina - Oh-na!
Through the bumpy rode - Ah-on!
To the tune of "Alae'itke, instead"!
"Don't cry, mother."

You believe in me?
- I believe in you. -
And if they're all against me?
Well, what do you, I believe in you.
If all my actions will be
shamefully against me?
I believe in you!
Flies into the sky, flies a swallow
spinning from happiness.
On a dune overcast, gray and quiet.
Kulichok cling to the sand.

Stringed harp
- Rocked pines,
where fell the front yard.
from forgotten shores
and light table
Paradise unknown,
someone animate.
At the pine trunks
the path led,
urban mystery
to gentle stool,
seen someone in a dream.
Let her come
thoughtful, focused,
who can love without knowing someone,
wait - not knowing what
while asleep, his soul flies away
to light sources
in silver ripples
she's having fun.

Subsided over spring sun Board,
movement red VOSClim raced.
Birko - North was the brick - side is not ours!
You still hope to improve, braid plait,
and I got a solar storm!
Tram, samovar, semaphore
The Nord-vest in me!
Fun storm, not win,
not gonna beat me!..
Under the ladder shaking the catwalk.
In Courland brewery,
And girl with black braids.

Someone there till the dawn sprinkled
will be in a dark corner to wait,
with a smile and pale-constrained
in polyumac the morning to meet.
And all day does not fly shower curtain
between the columns, in the far window;
only in the evening of a cloudy sheen
will light a candle in the depths.

Filed gently the carriage,
will prostacet under the window, on the rocks.
Come dusky - magnificently dressed,
only a train will glide on carpets.
Will remain grey candles
in front of the mirror to EITI rays.
At this festive meeting,
unlike the old days.
Will be in the mirror and doors
reflect empty rooms turn.
Will suit someone white, white,
in the reflection of the candle rises.

The cat from laziness and heat separated lugs.
Parted the velvet ears.
And the cat limp...
The swamp was rocking belovacikli.
There was
Botik - tummy:
Narcotic,
Duratec,
Cat-puchatek.
Pechonchik,
Belawati,
Casorati -
Potasic...

But he looks past her:
he's in love with a flashlight...
the elder Bush,
the burning ball.
Hears someone running,
hear the pattering feet:
marionette dancing in the heat
dance of the centipedes.
With a lantern crowned there
black night summer.
Rose, whistling and sniffing,
red rocket.
- Ah, flashlight orange, come! -
Crying silly Pierrot.
In colorful bunnies burns
his face.

Ah, Maestro clown,
You crazy can be fatal.
Why me
na - me?
You look perfect?..
Why are You now again
red,
have something to say
and failed?
Or You for me
for - me? - Sorry?
Or just You
me ashamed?