Текст песни Дети Picasso - В малиновом

SPRING IN HELL
Georg von Hooke

It was the night that evening.
Home as kettles to boil .
Torn from the windows bubbling love.
And " love is not a potato "
And "your bare shoulders "
Swirled in panic waltz
Fly and sing like lions.
But here's slammed and locked barking call.
Spring up the stairs in silence.
And everyone suddenly remembered that he was alone .
Cried alone! choking on bile.
And singing in the night and the roar of the morning,
In the deep gurgling evening in the park,
Rose from the dead years deathbed
And carried the bier as postage stamps .
Swayed like a sea of asphalt , river.
Rises and falls boat motors,
Sharks trams seeing the enemy
Allowed fountains nostril corridors.
And it was not frightening rising crest
Trot without regard to surging crowd
And feel death in a crimson sky
And sweet weakness and weakness ardor.
That evening , in the evening described in the books
It was not terrible clamor in the wind.
Structures tended and full of Cracow
Toppled as svezhepodkoshenny corpse
And full of happiness , though without science .
Wings beat the air in the milk box
There, where the immortal hands stretched
Spinning spring as a dancer on fire.