Летела жизнь

I myself Rostov, but in general a foundling -
I could be anything from what places -
And if you , my God, I will not give ,
Then my pig will not eat me .

Live - everywhere now, for example - in Tula.
Live - and do not consider any losses or profits.
From childhood, I remember the orphanage in the village
In the republic of Chechen- Ingush.

They tell us not to ruin a baby shower ,
Shared with us food and destiny.
Flying life in a bad car
And flew into the exhaust pipe.

I did not know in whom I have raised ,
Loved friends , guests and marijuana .
Now that little thing - grab the knife -
Which , fortunately, do not wear.

As I downed bush downwind portages
Fed by the way , mindful of the evil , but good.
I learned very well the feeling of comradeship -
I was shoved in the ribs .

I 've been there , where others have been -
All those with whom cut in half destiny.
Flying life in a bad car
And flew into the exhaust pipe.

We were tempered in frosty climates ,
No anybody in there than in denial .
So the Chechens living in Grozny
Lather from the Caucasus to Kazakhstan .

And there - Siberia - Lafayette for a barber :
Crowds and untrimmed pests -
Where there is a place for prisoners , Jews
And nedoistreblennyh Basmachi .

In Anadyr that we need namyli ,
We were there crowbars broke over the hump .
Flying life in a bad car
And flew into the exhaust pipe.

We drank everything, including the Polish -
And varnish and glue , trying not Shake .
We cheated alcohol bullet - fool -
So , perhaps, we do not cheat smart !

Drink vodka under the nuts for fun ,
Cognac under Uzbek pilaf , in their language - pilaf -
In Norilsk , for example, in the hot shop
We tried to drink the steel melt.

We holes in the gums gold scored,
Get old - pull out - money get enough money .
Flying life in a bad car
And flew into the exhaust pipe.

What songs we sang in the village !
How leaping over rocks naked !
Until I turned on the way ,
I wrote to the Chechen- Ingush .

One got a knife wound ,
Other - other things , well, the third - the last third ...
Siberia, Siberia - Power Bichevaya -
Where there is a place to live and to die is where .

I was kudryav but curls destroyed -
Seven spans due bald forehead .
Flying life in a bad car
And flew into the exhaust pipe.

Memories only worry I -
Always the same : "Help! Help! .. "
Here Chechens beat the Germans from the Volga region ,
A scene of the battle - the city of Barnaul .

When it came to almost lynching ,
I stood solidly for the Highlanders , pulling someone's throat -
Both were not here,
But fought like for themselves.

And those who have knocked on feats ,
Long lie and squirm in his grave -
All of them had been brought there in a car
And the most important - flew into the pipe.

1977