Сурган Валерий - На тротуаре сердце лежало - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

On the sidewalk lay the heart, on the sidewalk, warmed by the sun.

It was barely breathing, it was slightly trembling, the soft, sad heart of a poet.

It was accidentally dropped in the morning by a woman with a kind, absentminded look,

when she was taking powder or lipstick, or lipstick, out of her purse.

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And at night, a tipsy old tramp tripped over the heart, and crashed to death.

In the morning, the dog walkers took the poor thing - look, this guy hasn't shaved for a week.

And they took the heart, and the older dog walker, who didn't think about what was unclear,

decided that he had luck: such good, fresh meat.

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The wife cooked an unknown dish from the beans and the poet's heart,

and the dog walker was full, and all his children, and all the people who came to visit them. And after dinner, vague thoughts and bright thoughts, and images of a flock

replaced melancholy and gloom in their souls, and everyone - strangely enough - became poets.

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The story ended, in general, successfully, but, to be honest, don't be sad,

I came up with the ending, everything was different, and the heart remained lying on the asphalt.

And people stumble over it, and someone hurries, running next to it,

but a woman with a kind, absent-minded look will search and forever search for it.