Author of quotes: Natalia Perevezentseva

April. And I love you.
In July too, only smaller.
And will forget by December,
as the last of the women.

Black Swan floats from yesterday
and the future - past me.
Bright sunset and clear water
each "no" is "Yes."
Lord, I'm coming home
in polupromyshlennyh hometown,
where do I want to trust and love,
but get the answer: "maybe."

You're also, in essence, alone,
despite the wife, dog, house in the suburbs
metropolis... you Know, cricket, his last
and thank you for what until he has.

Here, on the reverse side - love? The moon?
all the same the mountains and the sea, the same dreams.
This shadow forever, you and me,
heard the same words, that on the other.
And no particular difference where the light, where the darkness,
and is not what a wolf howl, crazy,
the subtle hints to look for in simple words
and stolen a half hour to drown in tears.

It's not I forgive you, and it's not my voice,
this angel, he's behind me.
Despises me, looking for my soul in the ashes,
lamenting how I was living in evil.

Lovers in the congregation of guests
especially in the company of his,
where all about all, but neither he nor she
ought not the attention of friends.
No table they will not share nor neighbor
the table between them, the neighbor no.
And will not push the knife blade
in the gap between them... lines, boundary -
in their dictionary there are no... And we
their fire staring from the darkness...

A piece in the underpass,
maple, with a bulge lived.
He does not belong to the nature
already. He just lies.
Slow down your Jogging passerby,
not yet crunched under foot
maple leaf - such a disparate
with my, your... a draw? - the fate of man.

We had a civil war,
the outskirts were burning and exploding.
Huge Russian wine
all laid out - small it seemed.
Unimportant well... Main thing was - to live
now, today: not enough money,
went favorite, cum drown,
and in the yard in the cold and Monday.

The knife on the glass will sing,
perish the lantern outside the window.
Night ice will come
will cover your cloth.
Again do not see any dig,
is February in the dark.
And penetrates into the brain
a pathetic little fear.
If someone took
and, the top covered with darkness,
- Don't rock the boat, - ordered, -
and I will come for you.

Let no one from the woman not take
no heat, no bread, no even love.
Think - free, and the account grows
you ever surprise.
Here she is crying around us are wrong
and here you stand, a fool...
All your freedom - words, words,
weeping woman, the cooled house.

Let no one from the woman not take
no heat, no bread, no even love.
Think - free, and the account grows
you ever surprise.
Here she is crying around us are wrong
and here you stand, a fool...
All your freedom - words, words,
weeping woman, the cooled house.

Angry girl jealous not
what a beautiful, or smart,
and that will run out without a coat
and shout as follows: "fuck you..."

Wet the right shoulder
but the left - so hot
when under an umbrella together...
Conversing, one way,
and even under the arm go.
And could not five years ago
hope to live I
until the day in which we go
under the umbrella... we Go together...

These good bears near the Christmas tree,
these old cartoons are: wolves, rabbits, Santa Claus.
I derisively only yesterday, with affection today
well, tomorrow, well, tomorrow don't hold back me tears.