Текст песни Отцы и дети - Есть небольшое сельское кладбище

There is a small rural cemetery in one of the remote corners of Russia. Like almost all of our cemeteries, it is a sad sight: the ditches surrounding it have long been overgrown; gray wooden crosses drooped and rotted beneath their once painted roofs; the stone slabs are all shifted, as if someone pushes them from below; two or three plucked trees barely give scant shadow; Sheep roam graves for no reason ... But between them there is one that is not touched by a person who is not trampled by an animal: some birds sit on it and sing at the dawn. An iron fence surrounds it; two young trees are planted at both its ends: Yevgeny Bazarov is buried in this grave. To her, from a nearby village, often come two already decrepit old men - a husband and a wife. Supporting each other, they walk with a heavy gait; they will come close to the fence, will fall down and kneel down, and weep long and bitterly, and look at the dumb stone, under which their son lies, for a long time and attentively; they will exchange a short word, dust will be removed from the stone and the Christmas tree branch will be adjusted, and they will pray again, and they cannot leave this place, from where it seems to them that they are closer to their son, to memories of him ... Are their prayers, their tears, fruitless? Is love, holy, devoted love not omnipotent? Oh no! No matter how passionate, sinful, rebellious heart is hidden in the grave, the flowers growing on it calmly look at us with their innocent eyes: they tell us not only one eternal peace, that great calm of “indifferent” nature; they also speak of eternal reconciliation and of endless life ...