Текст песни Джио Россо - Единорог

The old city kisses gray hair in the back of the head, and crickets quietly sing in the bushes of the roadside. Under the palms of the heart, under the heart - a big deception, and silver streams run across the earth. Tadeusz’s life is measured like a clock. Not to say bright, but not to gray. He is a caring brother and a very good son, not picky and cheerful, moderately handsome and brave. He is successful in work and argues in his hands, like everything in his life, familiar with the plus sign. Only God continues to push him somewhere, on him only a guided path.
Yes, Tadeusz is in love. But, by the way, it’s shallow, (until he sees her face). He looks at her through the curtain of hospital curtains. And not a syllable to utter a word. Christina has freckles, and a scar in the middle of her chest, (where someone else's heart drives blood through the veins). He gently touches her pale hand. Unnoticed, inadvertently, again and again. He is a talented doctor and the best surgeon in the country. Being his patient is luck, a great honor. But Christina wearily whispers: `` After all, I will die? ''. And Tadeusz cannot answer no in any way. Yes, she is hopeless. And almost no chance. But here it is `` almost '', makes you go forward. A surgical scalpel painstakingly cuts Death. And in the eyes of Tadeusz - quiet and hard ice.

He goes to bed, and dreams lie down beside him. And the term is painfully fast. But at the very border of the last spring for them, a unicorn quietly enters his room.
This is a dream. But a very good dream. After terrible nightmares - a sip of ice water. There is a soft ringing in my head, a room is blurring, flowers are growing everywhere. And in a misty haze, silver and alive, a strange beast shyly clings to his hands. The void recedes, and the ambulance subsides, creating peace, so needed by his brains.
Dreams become more frequent - once a month, week, day. And all the time a unicorn comes to him. This strong, magically beautiful beast, escorts him along the paths of other roads. Sometimes they walk on sunny scales, on distant planets, go along the seabed. And as if, the pain remains in a dream, awakening him, full of strength, in the morning.

Christina’s affairs are getting worse, and “ten days,” say a panel of convened doctors. He is trying not to think anymore, to forget about her. '' Patient, just. No, fiction, not love. ''
Only her gaze, tin and ore, penetrates under the skin, touching the invisible strings. '' Operation the day after tomorrow, and I always
he won, conquering fate itself. ''

And a thunderstorm rages before a terrible day. Christina has one last chance. He goes to bed and is forgotten by sleep. Like the very, very last time.
Again the garden and hundreds of blooming roses. The snow-white mane of a wonderful creature. A dumb question lurks in his clever eyes. '' As if he sees the essence of my being. ''
'' Remember the tales, Tadeusz? From childhood far away? As if the horn of this creature would heal any ailment. - this diabolical voice tickles in his head. - What will you choose? Devotion or love? ''
The scalpel trembles finely in the hand, (and where is it from here?), The scarlet blood stained the snow-white skin. '' Does it make sense to kill him only in a dream? '' The horn, heavy and smooth, flies on the sand with a bang.
Five in the morning, the alarm goes off again. And Tadeusz, with difficulty opening his eyes, sees a fresh sheet stained with blood, and a broken horn in his trembling hands.
But not the time for thought, it is time for business. An hour later, the sharp horn turns into powder. Operation at nine, Tadeusz hurries to her. To her gentle Christine, across thousands of miles of roads.
He gives her a drink of white powder. '' Drink. This medicine '' - brings a glass to his lips. And a little later, she falls asleep in his hands, he kisses her, touching her cheek lightly.

The operation is very successful. They say: `` Talent, accomplished the impossible, like some kind of god. '' But Tadeusz, as if not too happy, and his temple pulsates with pain.
Before discharge, he does not come to her. He does not search, write or call. Let the string of sad days pass. And Christina will not remember his love.

He is vicious and