Текст песни Алексей Козлов - Искушение

Death comes to man,
He says to him: "Master,
You're like a cripple,
We bite insects.
Quit living, follow me,
I'm quiet in the coffin.
With a white shroud of hiding
All from small to large.
Do not be sad that there will be a pit,
That with you science will die:
The field will fall down itself,
Rye will rise without a plow.
The sun at noon will be searing,
Closer to the evening it's cool.
You, the experience is learned,
You will be white and mighty
With a copper cross
Sleep in a coffin neat. "

"Death, do not touch the owner,"
The man answers her. -
For the sake of old age, poor
Spare me for a moment.
Give me a little respite,
Let me go. And there
I'm the only daughter
For the works you will give. "

Death does not cry, does not laugh,
In the hands of the girl takes
And, like a fire, it rushes,
And the grass beneath it bends
From the hut to the gate.

The mound in the field stands,
The maiden in the mound rustles:
"It's hard to lie in a coffin,
Blackened hands both,
His hair was like dust,
A feather grass grows from the breasts.
It's hard to lie in the grave,
Sponges thin rotted,
Instead of an eye, there are two circles,
There is no dear cousin! "

Death over the mound flies
And laughs and sad,
From the gun in it shoots
And bowing says:
"Well, baby, it's full of lies,
Fat in the grave!
The world over the world exists,
Get out of the coffin!
You hear, the wind blows in the field,
Night comes again.
Caravans of sleepy stars
Flew by, swept.
Your underground post is over,
Well, try, rise! "

Virgo waved her hands,
I could not believe my ears,
The board was knocked out, jumped,
Hang! And burst at the seams.

And it flows, the poor thing flows
In the form of small intestines.
Where was her shirt,
There remained a powder.
Of all the orifices of the body
Worms look timidly,
Like the little ones
A liquid of pink drink.

There was a virgin - they became shchi.
Laugh, do not laugh, wait!
The sun will rise, the clay will crack,
In a flash the girl will rise again.
Of tibia from bone
Will the tree grow,
There will be a tree to make noise,
About the girl song to sing,
About the girl song to sing,
Sweet voice ringing:
"Hush, Little Baby, Do not Say a Word,
I bay my girl!
The wind flew into the field,
A month in the sky turned white.
Guys on the huts are sleeping,
They have a lot of kittens.
And every cat
The gate was red,
Shubki are blue with them,
All in gold boots,
All in gold boots,
Very, very expensive ... "

Nikolay Zabolotsky