Author of quotes: Jaroslav Umrzakov

Life is always a draft
Though simple, though great.

The feeling that the skin - bubbles,
like a long time sitting in the soda.
Two hours talking about the lyrics -
this is too much, overdose.

Step to you, from you - the final choice.
You're my genius of the earth, my traitor and enemy.
The two of us on the hook: who's the bait, who is the fish?
And does it matter, someone who would lie?

I dive in the fall, as in a tunnel.
Pressure me to arch membrane,
And the rain will throw in the face of his shrapnel
And later podelat a straw.
Because both of us have nothing to consider,
Without us walking harvest festival.

Dead forest where no bird's hubbub,
On the branches of freezing ice
Fragile the weight of the crown full
On the trail - a pile of broken twigs.
Crack the trunk, collapse the tree in the snow
So broken and people:
Suffers, moans, quivers, sags,
And one day suddenly "hrws!" and breaks.
If you see this in the way
Be careful!

You can never hear the tearful "don't leave",
And my cheekbones brings the phrase "you were sent to me by fate."
However, I know you like me,
What are each time exclusively with you.

Say, perhaps, weigh nothing
My words? - Neither cold nor hot.
And did I love? You're just annoying
Me from the inability to cuddle
Your back, to feel the blades,
To embrace for shoulders, to stroke her collarbone.

And I can that day in a row
In the furnace fire is pointless to watch
On the manuscript, as they burn...
All that someone's hands could warm up.

And evil going on in the world not out of malice,
And the justification is, for children's tears
And never Russia from her sleep.
Not stand the quiet rustling of the birch trees.

Burned a lot of truths at the stake,
And someone hands warmed on the fire.
The fire - and the Supreme court, and the fear of God,
And it burn, I feel me.

Don't trust others. And myself do not believe.
And happiness is not now, not here.
And this man - a stranger now
Was a close friend, just gone.
And you have no power: evil must ripen.
And who will judge you, what kind
You could? - No.
And whether it is possible?

And the world is cruel and fragile, and requires:
One law - the struggle for a place in the pack.

Poems - all talk fake princes
Of God in vain, but about beauty.
In the hearts and the Queen mother,
It is not about how they are not... not the...

The longer the path, the less adventure
Familiar matter, only matter - stuff,
And completed all destinations
And you in your more stubborn.