From early childhood he could not look
He pulled his hands from a child’s chair to the starry sky
I tried to touch at least with a finger lying in a wheelchair
And fell into the loggia under the stars, not fairy tales
In the morning it seemed stolen or maybe fell
Scoured in the grass near the house and searched in the basement
Starting to walk, he offended all ditches in the vicinity
Watch under his feet for him unnaturally
The gaze only up, barely evening
Head was lifted, the feet were pedaled.
Pulled to the roofs, the logically the higher the closer
I envied the birds of the Paris.
When it grows up to the year that to leave the house
Even without an approvo from parents will be able to
He was ready for this.
A mountain is chosen, the path is understood, the breed is studied
He broke, legs, tore the ligaments, there were dislocations
Desires to raise eyes to the sky were not knocked out by this
And now he matured in cats and with an ice ax
Among the puzzled citizens go to the subway in the morning
Airport, flight, and here it is
At the foot of the mountain is alarmed, but ready to climb
Equipped all, the ice ax sticks into the ice
And along the steep slopes in the mountains begins to move
The pulse hits, the stream is sweat, adrenaline rushes
Testament, height heights on a star firmament
Gives this battle, but on the heels drives trouble
More meters and only winds on the head
Constellations on a dark blue canvas are so close
He dreamed of star light as he knew here
Gloves thrown from hand to snow fall with a squeak
Stretching to the star, he will lose his balance
You will fly down, and when it is not important
Only thirsty is beckoning upward
And your path and traces separately each
And what kind of person you are now
You will fly down, and when it is not important
Only thirsty is beckoning upward
And your path and traces separately each
And what kind of person you are now
Having come to his senses, he opened his eyes and saw the sky again
Only a small piece of it fell into the lumen
Around it is dark and damp, there is no air and light
In the midst of clay sheer walls there are no clockwork
Having exhausted in attempts to get out - everyone is unsuccessful
Climbing a couple of meters up, broke up every time
He looked up from the sky, fixing to the darkness of the pitch
And peering for a long time waited for the eye to get used to it
Consciousness a little that saw the paintings
One was replaced by another, a pattern for a pattern
And in an instant, suddenly, all the contours united
Showing where he turned out to be the conqueror of the mountains
Flapped in the burial ground stood on the bones
And he hated the thoughts that they hung on his mind
The fact that you can get out of here only
Taking the bones began to stick them into the wall with frenzy
As on the steps, relying on them climbed above
Taking all the new and pressing over oneself
Until the failure came out of the failure
Deciding that the path to the stars is not limited to the mountain
He lifted the skull from the gorge, pieces of skeletons
Of them he built a pyramid - a new mountain peak
Breaking the bones under it, the trace left the trace
Already there is no material, but the arch did not reach
And here it is above all heights known on the planet
Stands on a pile of skulls barely holding the balance
How he became the stars no longer shining
Now he looks only down not falling down
You will fly down, and when it is not important
Only a thirst for beckoning upwards is important
And your path and traces separately each
And what kind of person you are now
You will fly down, and when it is not important
Only thirsty is beckoning upward
And your path and traces separately each
And what kind of person you are now
