Lyrics Богданов Петр - Балтийский берег
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Как и раньше, сяду на песчаный берег,
Не важно Балтийского моря или пролива.
Буду смотреть на темную холодную воду,
И любоваться игрой морского прилива.
Перебирая, еще теплый ревнивый песок,
Строя им что-то, не на что, не похожее,
Читая вслух, свой очередной монолог.
Ветер подхватит, умчит вдаль на восток.
Наблюдая за игрой переменчивых чаек,
В отголоске тех криков, их поэму прочту.
В них, есть тоже от боли, расскажут свое,
Они также как я, хотят исполнить мечту.
Находясь, в перекрестке семи ветров,
На море это скорее не ново, обыденность.
Прочту монолог или пару новых стихов.
Ведь море не знает, что такое стыдливость.
Незаметно, неслышно ты ко мне подойдешь,
И рука твоя, до плеча.... Прикоснется.
Пару фраз о любви и ты сядешь со мной,
Наших жизней круг, навечно сомкнется.
(c) Богданов Петр
As before, I will sit on the sandy shore,
No matter the Baltic Sea or the strait.
I will look at the dark cold water
And admire the tide game.
Fingering, still warm jealous sand,
Building them something, nothing, nothing like,
Reading aloud, his next monologue.
The wind picks up, will pitch away to the east.
Watching the game of changeable gulls,
In the echo of those screams, read their poem.
In them, there is also pain, tell their own,
They also like me, want to fulfill a dream.
Being at the crossroads of the seven winds,
At sea, it is rather not new, routine.
Read a monologue or a couple of new poems.
After all, the sea does not know what modesty is.
Insensibly, inaudibly, you will approach me,
And your hand, up to the shoulder .... Touch.
A couple of phrases about love and you sit down with me,
Our life circle, forever close.
(c) Bogdanov Peter
No matter the Baltic Sea or the strait.
I will look at the dark cold water
And admire the tide game.
Fingering, still warm jealous sand,
Building them something, nothing, nothing like,
Reading aloud, his next monologue.
The wind picks up, will pitch away to the east.
Watching the game of changeable gulls,
In the echo of those screams, read their poem.
In them, there is also pain, tell their own,
They also like me, want to fulfill a dream.
Being at the crossroads of the seven winds,
At sea, it is rather not new, routine.
Read a monologue or a couple of new poems.
After all, the sea does not know what modesty is.
Insensibly, inaudibly, you will approach me,
And your hand, up to the shoulder .... Touch.
A couple of phrases about love and you sit down with me,
Our life circle, forever close.
(c) Bogdanov Peter