Текст песни Владимир Владимирович Маяковский - Письмо Татьяне Яковлевой

In the kiss of his hands,
                 lips or lips,
in the body trembling
            close to me
red
       Colour
           of my republics
also
    must
          to flare up.
I do not like
          Parisian love:
any female
             silks decorate,
stretching, napping,
                     saying -
                            tubo -
dogs
       brutalized passion.
You are alone with me
           growth level,
stand beside me
              with a brow eyebrow,
give
   about this
           important evening
tell
          in human terms.
Five hours,
          and since then
poem
    of people
         dense forest,
extinction
     city ​​inhabited,
I hear only
          whistle
trains to Barcelona.
In the black sky
             lightning stride,
thunder
    rougnea
          in the heavenly drama, -
not a thunderstorm,
         and this
              just
jealousy moves mountains.
Stupid words
           do not believe the raw materials,
do not be afraid
          this shaking, -
I bridle,
           I will surrender
feelings
       offspring of the nobility.
The Passion of the Measles
            descends short,
but joy
          dry,
I will be long,
           I'll just
to talk poems by myself.
Jealousy,
         wives,
              tears ...
                      Well them! -
milestones will swell,
              just right for Viyu.
I'm not myself,
         and I
            jealous
for Soviet Russia.
Saw
     on the shoulders of a patch,
their
  consumption
         licks a sigh.
What,
       we are not to blame -
hundred million
            was bad.
we
   Now
         to such are gentle -
sports
       straighten not many;
you and us
        in Moscow are needed,
lacks
          long-legged.
Not for you,
        in the snow
               and in typhus
the
       these feet,
here
     on caresses
            give them out
in the evening
       with oil workers.
Do not you think,
            squinting
from under the straightened arches.
Come here,
         go to the crossroads
my big
            and awkward hands.
Do not want?
          Stay and winter,
and this
     insult
               to the total account we will draw.
I'm all different
           you
               someday I'll take -
one
    or together with Paris.