Текст песни Алексей Горшенев - Письмо от матери

Why should I
Even now come up with,
What Now
I also write?
In front of me
On the table sullen
Lies letter
What sent me mother.

I do not like fear,
What are you a poet,
What have you made friends
With bad glory.
It is much better if
From an early age
You went to the field for sohoyu.

I became old
And it is bad,
But if the house
Were you at the beginning,
That I
Was used in-law is now
And on the leg
Vnuchonka I rocked.

But you have children
In light lost,
His wife
It is easy to put another way,
And without family, without friendship,
Without berth
You head
Kabatsky went into the maelstrom.

In you our hopes
They do not come true,
And the soul
From the sick and gorshe,
What father
There was a vain idea,
That for poetry
You took the money more.

Though as you only
Neither took,
You can not send them into the house,
And because so bitter
Polish-pour,
What I know
In your experience:
So the money is not given.

............
I crumpled the letter,
I plunge into horror.
Can it be true no way out
In my way cherished?
But still, I think,
I then tell.
I will tell
In a letter to reply ...