these mountains
are the taiga,
here they are a friend and there is no enemy lower and lower in the
clouds internally you are more of a hand
and as my palm asks, stroke
you at least 2
the breeze rustles slightly not yet used to
but by the thirtieth 83 years old
Vera Vladimirovna that we will
claim that the car will become poems are not your
nose so kill
that to hear write down save
someone match of the suburbs I think that
now it’s impossible because no one is there no
sooner
we’ll get to the best collection to see how
much is here here about 250 to 245
the collection I designed this way Vladimir Vysotsky
afterwords through one of the epigraphs
I took the words of the radius itself, teach who
knows, maybe someday we will
telepathically transfer poems to each other to
whomever I want to go home, I read it
later while still alive, said forgive me,
please introduce you to
another heroine of our film, studied at 4
institutes, graduated with honors,
worked in the system of vocational education,
she was a member of the board of the committee, the
beginning of an ordinary fate and the doc brought
you eight years ago,
he had a strange dream in which a beautiful flight, a beautiful help, which was very well
known to him,
and a month later, this poet began to
dictate to his element
how this happens anywhere at
any time maybe the kitchen, bathroom,
maybe yes, it’s completely alive, but
otherwise he doesn’t feel any vibrations,
then he heard some kind of smog, then the
tooth, Bertrand’s voice, chopping Vysotsky’s voice,
now and knowing for sure, maybe what’s prepared,
I know, apparently, so now she
’ll be here with you. I take that notebook with a
pencil and start writing our line in the
third, that is, I write it all down line by line,
but I don’t understand almost what I’m
writing, not only can you read it, you can
understand it, yes I understand what I wrote,
we were looking for them, links bacon and they will be the
same as you see everyone the next generations
are not a symbol of everyday life and it will give a
sounding 100 different induction of the finest
purity does
n’t it love you from if not to prove not
then let’s try something else I
once wrote editor look at my
draft
I cross out the words 3g island and
learn the words that
I put in several times they live by the cutlets of thoughts
painfully searching, she now look at
the drafts
than to dictate which I receive I
write down now in one edit everything goes
after and absolutely comfort this is a
clean record in one couple of nothing
except here there are ones in which there
are predictions that do not come true here
all quiet in which he talks about
some things
that I have not thought about and don’t know, or another
type in general, you know how they
God’s attitude towards us was not so sharply negative,
his singing, it’s all because the son
brought these films, they were screaming and for me it
was horror, I covered my ears and left,
well, return it, well, how did you
still decide that it’s worth it like this, they’re coming from
Vladimir Semin, that it’s just because
it’s true, I’m writing all this, accepts him,
I hear his voice and sometimes I even see his
earthly language left not yet I don’t
know how good luck I’m talking to a person and
how clear I am in Paris and in a speech where
I am only to him and I can’t tell
about my new place I’m all out
weighing somewhere to me calm down with the light of a
healthy person you communicated with such kind thoughts
you seem I am very
convinced that when a person dies, you
have to live, he simply sheds his
three-dimensional shell and moves on to another,
there are other spatial
dimensions
[music]
the world to the waterman could
read something from verses 11 on the sofa, I can
from the word peace just smell like a
dead person, I am the concept of peace flatly
denied
if the day passed evenly
calmly,
it means blacks I counted I believed that life must be
lived in a violent boil, tearing
hearts, accelerating the motive flew by 42 of
their own in impatience to molten steel,
split themselves and now I can’t stand the population
is growing not for me, the cradle in the quiet ringing of the
nights for me from fermentation in the blood there is no throwing of the
May imagines itself to be loaded
so that a little shoulders and I rebel obviously I don’t ask I will
demand I can’t nightingales I
wait calmly and I stretch my hands to the high sky I’m
not in prayer
ah cries give life and
open
[applause]
[music]
and