Lyrics Сергей Есенин - Возвращение на родину

I visited places birthmarks ,
 Tu selschinu ,
 Where he lived a boy,
 Where watchtower with birch tower
 Shot up the bell tower without a cross .

 How much has changed there,
 These poor , unattractive way of life .
 What many discoveries
 Should follow me closely.

 father's house
 I could not recognize :
 Maple too conspicuous under the window is not waving ,
 And sitting on the porch is not really her mother ,
 Feeding chickens krupitchatoy porridge.

 Old must have become ...
 Yes, old.
 Sadly I look around at the neighborhood :
 What unfamiliar terrain !
 One , as the former , is white mountain
 Yes, mountains
 High gray stone .

 Here the cemetery !
 Blighted crosses
 As if in melee dead ,
 Frozen with arms outstretched .
 On the trail , leaning on podozhok ,
 Goes the old man , wiping the dust from the weeds .
 " Members !
 Shew , my friend,
 Where's lives Esenina Tatiana ? "

 " Tatyana ... Um ...
 Yes there behind that hut .
 And you tell her that ?
 Akin ?
 Al , maybe a lost son ? "

 " Yes, son .
 But , man , are you ?
 Tell me ,
 Why are you so look skorbyasche ? "

 " Welcome , my grandson ,
 Good that you did not know my grandfather ! .. "
 " Oh , Grandpa , is it possible that you? "
 And the sad conversation flowed
 Warm tears on dusty flowers .
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 "For you, perhaps, will soon be thirty ...
 And I really ninety ...
 Soon in the coffin .
 It's time to turn back would be . "
 He says , and he all frowns .
 " Yes .. Time ! ..
 You're not a communist ? "
 "No! .. "
 " The sisters became Komsomol .
 This disgusting! Just boas !
 Yesterday icons thrown off the shelf,
 Commissioner took on the church cross.
 Now there is no place to pray to God .
 So now I go to sneak into the forest ,
 ASPEN pray ...
 May come in handy ...

 Come home -
 You all see for yourself . "
 And we go tramping mezhoy puppet .
 I smile arable land and forests ,
 A grandfather with longing looks at the bell tower.
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 "It's great mother! Wow! " -
 And again, I pull a handkerchief to his eyes .
 Then burst into tears and could cow
 Looking at this poor area.

 Lenin on the wall calendar .
 Here life sisters
 Sisters , not mine -
 But all I 'm ready to fall on his knees,
 Seeing you favorite region.

 Neighbors came ...
 Woman with child .
 No one I know.
 Byron in our mutt
 I was met at the gate barking .

 Oh, dear land!
 Not that you have become,
 Not one.
 Yeah , and I certainly was not the former .
 What mother and grandfather sad and hopeless ,
 Merrier sisters laughing mouth.

 Of course, I and Lenin icon
 I know the world ...
 I love my family ...
 But somehow all the same with a bow
 I sit down on a wooden bench .

 " Well , tell me , sister! "

 And sister breeds ,
 Revealing how the Bible bellied "Capital "
 On Marx ,
 Engels ...
 Nor in any weather
 I these books , of course , did not read .

 And I find it funny
 How mischievous girl
 Me around the collar takes ...
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 Byron in our mutt
 I was met at the gate barking .