Lyrics Леонид Семаков - Зеленогорбые верблюды
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Неугомонные туристы,
Зеленогорбые верблюды,
В неторопливом караване
Горбы зеленые несут.
(Из прежнего)
В городском квартирном полумраке,
Дабы дух бродяжий не закис,
Как наипараднейшие фраки,
Надевают люди рюкзаки.
Ждут нас «атлантиды», ждут нас «трои»,
Ждут нас континенты и моря,
Ждут, уж это точно, нашей крови
Полчища мошки и комарья.
Быть в дороге — это только метод,
Быть усталым — это лишь цена,
Насмотреться надо на планету,
Благо, что она пока цела.
На обрывах горных и таежных
Вспомни, прежде чем начать падеж,
К рюкзаку прикручен ты надежно,
Рюкзака держись — не упадешь.
Тот, кто не любил дорог, — полюбит,
Не беда, что тащится чуть жив,
Для чего к кострам уходят люди?
Чтобы рядом не было чужих.
У костров с собой мы сводим счеты,
Возвращаясь на свои круги,
У одних костры сжигают что-то,
Возрождают что-то у других.
Пунш готов, к барьеру, обыватель,
Песня — наш дуэльный полигон,
Чем не лейб-гусарские биваки,
Знать бы только, где Наполеон.
Женственность прекрасна в разнотолках,
Толкований много, а пока
Наши Дульсинеи в брезентовках,
Наши Дездемоны в сапогах.
К черту догмы, должности, визиты,
Тут мы все туристы, я и ты,
Звон струны — Великий Инквизитор —
Нынче судит ведьму суеты.
Мы непритязательные люди,
Вот такие люди! Будь здоров!
Мы зеленогорбые верблюды,
Корабли нетоптанных дорог.
Restless tourists,
Green-humped camels,
In a leisurely caravan
The green hills are carried.
(From the former)
In the city apartment twilight,
In order that the spirit of the vagrant should not turn sour,
As naiparadneyshie tailcoats,
People put on backpacks.
Waiting for us "atlantis", waiting for us "troy"
Waiting for us continents and seas,
Wait, it's for sure, our blood
Hordes of midges and mosquitoes.
Being on the road is only a method,
Being tired is only a price,
It is necessary to look at the planet,
Fortunately, it is still intact.
On the cliffs of mountain and taiga
Remember, before you start a case,
To the backpack you are fastened securely,
Keep your backpack - you will not fall.
He who did not like roads, will fall in love,
It does not matter that I'm a little alive,
Why do people go to fires?
To the side there were no strangers.
We take scores with us,
Returning to their circles,
Some have bonfires burning something,
Some people revive something.
The punch is ready, to the barrier, the man in the street,
The song is our duel training ground,
Than not the Leipz-Hussar bivouacs,
Know only where is Napoleon.
Femininity is beautiful in various shoes,
There are a lot of interpretations, but for now
Our Dulcinees in tarpaulins,
Our Desdemona in boots.
To hell with dogmas, posts, visits,
Here we are all tourists, me and you,
The ringing of the string - The Great Inquisitor -
Today he judges the witch of vanity.
We are unpretentious people,
These are the people! Be healthy!
We are green horned camels,
Ships of untried roads.
Green-humped camels,
In a leisurely caravan
The green hills are carried.
(From the former)
In the city apartment twilight,
In order that the spirit of the vagrant should not turn sour,
As naiparadneyshie tailcoats,
People put on backpacks.
Waiting for us "atlantis", waiting for us "troy"
Waiting for us continents and seas,
Wait, it's for sure, our blood
Hordes of midges and mosquitoes.
Being on the road is only a method,
Being tired is only a price,
It is necessary to look at the planet,
Fortunately, it is still intact.
On the cliffs of mountain and taiga
Remember, before you start a case,
To the backpack you are fastened securely,
Keep your backpack - you will not fall.
He who did not like roads, will fall in love,
It does not matter that I'm a little alive,
Why do people go to fires?
To the side there were no strangers.
We take scores with us,
Returning to their circles,
Some have bonfires burning something,
Some people revive something.
The punch is ready, to the barrier, the man in the street,
The song is our duel training ground,
Than not the Leipz-Hussar bivouacs,
Know only where is Napoleon.
Femininity is beautiful in various shoes,
There are a lot of interpretations, but for now
Our Dulcinees in tarpaulins,
Our Desdemona in boots.
To hell with dogmas, posts, visits,
Here we are all tourists, me and you,
The ringing of the string - The Great Inquisitor -
Today he judges the witch of vanity.
We are unpretentious people,
These are the people! Be healthy!
We are green horned camels,
Ships of untried roads.