Текст песни Белая гвардия - Чашка без дна
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У моей чашки нет дна.
Я хотела напиться, колодец нашла,
И воды зачерпнула, к губам поднесла,
Но у моей чашки нет дна.
Поперек дороги мне встала река,
Мне что-то шептали ее берега.
Я хотела уплыть, я в лодку вошла,
Но у моей лодки нет весла.
Я хотела позвать Его, голос пропал.
Только серые совы слетелись на зов.
Он меня не услышал, меня не узнал,
Теперь у моей песни нет слов.
Но и это не страшно, а страшно то,
Что это не сон, тут не видно конца.
Я стою под звездами в дырявом пальто,
И на мне, о Господи, нет лица.
А в этом городе не пахнут цветы,
И от этого становится еще страшней.
А эти окна слепы, как кроты,
А эти деревья не пускают корней.
А в газетах пишут, наступила весна.
В газетах пишут, в основном, о весне.
А у моей чашки нет дна,
А я, о Господи, на самом дне.
Я лежу, как кошка, свернувшись в калач,
А звезд уже не видно из-за скопища туч.
Я смотрю сквозь ресницы на розовый мяч,
От которого тянется единственный луч.
My cup does not have a bottom.
I wanted to get drunk, I found a well,
She drew water and put it to her lips,
But my cup does not have a bottom.
Across the road I got a river,
Something whispered to her.
I wanted to sail, I went into the boat,
But my boat does not have an oar.
I wanted to call Him, the voice was gone.
Only the gray owls flew at the call.
He did not hear me, he did not recognize me,
Now my song has no words.
But it's not scary, but it's scary,
That this is not a dream, there is no end in sight.
I stand under the stars in a tattered coat,
And on me, O Lord, there is no face.
And in this city the flowers do not smell,
And it becomes even more frightening.
And these windows are blind, like moles,
And these trees do not allow roots.
And in the newspapers they write, spring has come.
The newspapers write, mostly about spring.
And my cup does not have a bottom,
And I, O Lord, at the very bottom.
I lie like a cat, curled up,
And the stars are no longer visible because of the clouds.
I look through my eyelashes on a pink ball,
From which stretches a single ray.
I wanted to get drunk, I found a well,
She drew water and put it to her lips,
But my cup does not have a bottom.
Across the road I got a river,
Something whispered to her.
I wanted to sail, I went into the boat,
But my boat does not have an oar.
I wanted to call Him, the voice was gone.
Only the gray owls flew at the call.
He did not hear me, he did not recognize me,
Now my song has no words.
But it's not scary, but it's scary,
That this is not a dream, there is no end in sight.
I stand under the stars in a tattered coat,
And on me, O Lord, there is no face.
And in this city the flowers do not smell,
And it becomes even more frightening.
And these windows are blind, like moles,
And these trees do not allow roots.
And in the newspapers they write, spring has come.
The newspapers write, mostly about spring.
And my cup does not have a bottom,
And I, O Lord, at the very bottom.
I lie like a cat, curled up,
And the stars are no longer visible because of the clouds.
I look through my eyelashes on a pink ball,
From which stretches a single ray.