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& quot; paradise apple & quot;
Vladimir Vysotsky 1977


I used to die - we've always die -
so how would guess that did not himself - to the back with a knife :
killed spared , burial service and pet paradise -
I will not tell about the living and the dead , we cherish .


In the dirt hit his face , overwhelmed with prettier side,
and hit on the stolen soul nags at a gallop.
In the wondrous paradise gardens gathering a pale pink apples.
Sorry , gardens guard and shoot without a miss in the forehead.


Rode - I look - not a heavenly sight of something :
nerodyaschy wasteland and sheer nothingness - chaos.
And nothing stood among the cast gate,
and a huge stage - five thousand - sat on his lap .


Rzhanet as root! I am humbled him a kind word ,
yes repi of urine hardly ripped and braided mane .
The gray-haired old man too long tinkered with the bolt -
and groaned and grumbled , and was unable to open - and left.


And exhausted people did not make a single groan ,
only squatted suddenly numbed knees moved .
Here raspberries, lads - we are greeted Crimson ring !
All returned to the circle , and the crucified hung above the circle .


Bring us all good , and how much do I claimed benefits ?
I - that were friends, and wife - that fell on the coffin .
Well, I do for them gathering a pale pink apples.
Sorry , gardens guard and shoot without a miss in the forehead.


I found an old man in tears on his cheeks flabby :
St. Peter is - he is the Apostle , and I - mutt .
That booths gardens , in whom Prorva frozen apples.
But gardens guard - and I killed without a miss in the forehead.


And I drove the horses away from these places and rotten Zyablov -
horses oats ask , but I ate a bit .
Along the cliff with a whip in his bosom apples over the precipice
I'll bring thou me out of heaven and waited !