Высоцкий песня о книгах текст
Обновлено: 19.09.2024
Средь оплывших свечей и вечерних молитв,
Средь военных трофеев и мирных костров
Жили книжные дети, не знавшие битв,
Изнывая от мелких своих катастроф.
Детям вечно досаден
Их возраст и быт -
И дрались мы до ссадин,
До смертных обид.
Но одежды латали
Нам матери в срок,
Мы же книги глотали,
Пьянея от строк.
Липли волосы нам на вспотевшие лбы,
И сосало под ложечкой сладко от фраз,
И кружил наши головы запах борьбы,
Со страниц пожелтевших слетая на нас.
И пытались постичь -
Мы, не знавшие войн,
За воинственный клич
Принимавшие вой, -
Тайну слова "приказ",
Назначенье границ,
Смысл атаки и лязг
Боевых колесниц.
И злодея следам
Не давали остыть,
И прекраснейших дам
Обещали любить;
И, друзей успокоив
И ближних любя,
Мы на роли героев
Вводили себя.
И когда рядом рухнет израненный друг,
И над первой потерей ты взвоешь, скорбя,
И когда ты без кожи останешься вдруг
Оттого, что убили его - не тебя, -
1975 Amid oplyvshih candles and evening prayers ,
Amid the spoils of war and peace fires
Lived book children who did not know the battles
Exhausted by their small catastrophes.
Children forever Annoyance
Their age and Life -
And we fought to abrasions,
Until mortal offense .
But clothes patched
We mother at the time ,
We book swallowed ,
Drunk with strings.
Hair stuck us on sweaty foreheads ,
And sucked in his stomach from the sweet phrases
And circled our heads smell struggle
From the pages yellowed Gathering of us.
And trying to comprehend -
We did not know the wars ,
Battle cry for
Taking howl -
The mystery of the word " order" ,
Fiat boundaries
Sense of attack and clank
Chariots .
And in boiling cauldrons former slaughterhouses and unrest
Much food for little of our brains !
We are on the role of traitors , cowards , FTI
In their childhood games appointed enemies.
And villain trail
Not allowed to cool,
And beautiful ladies
Promised to love ;
And friends calmed
And loving neighbors ,
We are on the role of heroes
Introduced himself .
Only in dreams can not permanently escape :
A brief moment in fun - so much pain around!
Try to let go of the dead palm
And weapons to take out the tired hands.
Try , seizing
Still warm sword
And wearing armor -
That much , that how much !
Understand who you are - a coward
Ile chosen destiny,
And try to taste
This struggle.
And when the next collapse wounded friend
And on the first loss you vzvoesh , grieving,
And when you stay suddenly Skinless
That's why they killed him - not you -
You will understand that I learned ,
Contrast , found
Grin took on -
This death grin !
Lies and evil - look,
As their faces rude
And always behind -
Crows and coffins .
If the meat with a knife you did not eat a piece ,
If hands folded watching down ,
And the fight is not joined with the rascal , with the executioner -
So in life you were innocent , innocent !
If the path cutting through
Father's sword ,
You salty tears
Wound on a mustache ,
If in a hot battle
Experienced that how much -
So your books
You read in childhood !
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