Текст песни Отцы и дети - Есть небольшое сельское кладбище

There is a small rural cemetery in one of the remote corners of Russia. As almost all of our cemeteries, it is a kind of sad: the surrounding ditch has long overgrown; Gray wooden crosses droked and rot under their once painted roofs; Stone slabs all shifted, as if who pushes them from below; Two or three dollars barely give a scanty shadow; The sheep fenced on the graves ... But between them there is one, to which a person does not touch the animal: some birds sit on her and sing at the dawn. Iron fence surrounds it; Two young trees are planted on both her ends: Eugene Bazarov is buried in this grave. To her, from a near-minded village, often come two already decrepid old man - husband and wife. Supporting each other, they go with a religious gait; They will come close to the fence, they will fall on their knees, and they cry for a long time and bitterly, and long and carefully look at a mute stone under which their son is lying; Change with a short word, the dust will be filled with a stone and the branch of the Christmas tree will correct, and pray again, and they cannot leave this place from where it seems to be closer to their son, before the memories of him ... are there really prayers, their tears are fruitless? Does love, holy, devoted love is not omnipotenth? Oh no! Whatever passionate, sinful, the riotless heart disappeared into the grave, flowers growing on it, serenely look at us with their innocent eyes: they are not talking about one eternal tranquency, they tell us about the great calm "indifferent nature; They also speak about the eternal reconciliation and about the life of the infinite ...