Текст песни Казбанова Марина - Монолог Катерины

Why don't people fly like birds? You know, sometimes it seems to me that I am a bird. When you stand on the mountain, so you and pulls to fly. So I would have fled, raised my hands and flew. Try some now? What I was frisky! I withered completely. I lived, did not hurt anything, like a bird in the wild. Mama little soul didn’t do much with me, she didn’t force me to work like a doll; what I want, happened, I do. Do you know how I lived in girls? So I'll tell you now. I would get up early; If in the summer, so I’m going to the key, I wash my face, bring with me some water and everything, all the flowers in the house are polya. I had a lot of flowers. Then we will go with mama to the church, to all the pilgrims, we have a house full of pilgrims; Yes, the mantis. And we will come from the church, sit down for some work, more on velvet in gold, and the pilgrims will tell you: where they were, what they saw, their lives are different, or they sing poems. So before lunch time will pass. Then the old women fall asleep, and I walk in the garden. Then to vespers, and in the evening again stories and singing. That was good! Yes, everything is as if out of bondage. And to death I loved to go to church! Similarly, it happened, I will go to heaven and do not see anyone, and I don’t remember the time, and I don’t hear when the service is over. Just like it all in one second was. Mama said that everything happened to look at me, what was happening to me. And you know: on a sunny day, a light pole goes down from the dome, and smoke comes out in this column, like a cloud, and I see it happened that the angels in this column fly and sing. And then, it happened, the girl, I get up at night - we, too, everywhere the lamps were burning - yes, somewhere in the corner and I pray until the morning. Or early in the morning I will go to the garden, the sun is still rising, I will fall on my knees, I pray and weep, and I myself don’t know what I pray for and what I am crying about; so find me. And what I prayed for then, what I asked for, I don’t know; I do not need anything, everything I had was pretty. And what dreams I dreamed, Varenka, what dreams! Or the temples are golden, or some unusual gardens, and everyone sings invisible voices, and it smells like cypress, and the mountains and trees seem not to be the same as usual, but written on images. And the fact that I fly, and fly through the air. And now sometimes dreams, but rarely, and not that.