Five brilliant artifacts of a mysterious programmer

Pigeons

Flocks of pigeons in the blue sky,

We could fly to the south,

To coo over the black sea,

And watch the sunset from the shore,

They could, but they don’t like it any better,

Than a breath of native air,

And a piece of dry bread,

They are free, peaceful, here,

Flocks fly under the clouds,

There’s no smarter bird to turn,

What about magnetic radars,

Find routes above the house,

They are equipped with wings,

Lighter than chicken feather beds, in this,

The vestments of the demigods,

So ordinary and yet not,

Ordinary looking ones only,

We’ll be friends forever,

Feed them out of hand en masse.

You must be scarier than Hell

You must be scarier than Hell,

Once I call you proudly Varyag,

You moored with the stern,

I remember your kind look.

You must be scarier than Hell,

Once I was so angry in the war,

The storm of the seas has gone into eternity,

In the middle of the sky stood for the first time.

You must be scarier than Hell,

If time doesn’t count,

To the losses of soldiers that starley,

The era of destroyers calls.

Under oath

Were you under oath,

Familiar to you,

The burden of duty, honor and glory,

I want to know what you

’re like, you were wounded without passing,

You went firmly to the enemy,

Or you were before the grave,

Ready to stand the world cursing,

To justify Zavara.

Wolf

Wolf, you’re cool in captivity,

And tear with oblivion our famously,

But we are brothers by blood,

Together we shed and together we are,

For likhom you to the bear, on better,

Come, he sleeps soundly in the den,

But don’t wake up a sleeping bear,

After all, together with the dashing you will know the roar,

And the bear has it, oh, oh what,

Sit still, he might say,

Or will he wake up fraternally, so peacefully,

And you will embrace, shake the forest,

After all, he is the only owner and besides,

He knows the forest, he has lived a long time,

Teach the gray shaggy wisely,

And you will not be gray, but a kid.

The most important thing is not to waste everything on the wind

There were many brave cowboys,

Where they are now, here, believe me,

Do you read the Koran, do you honor Krishna,

do you observe the Bible or the Torah?

You’re a Buddhist, you go to all the temples,

Anyway, I’ll be right, of course,

There are the living, there are the dead, Prado,

There are a lot of other brands,

Don’t forget the live ones,

We still have buckshot in our guns.

The most important thing is not to waste everything,

Put everything on the cherished right goal,

Wait for luck, it will be hard, but you are alive,

And alive, you’re better than dead, light it up.

There is no place for the living, in the kingdom of the saints,

They are icons, and not in the gut,

You can hit them if you can see their eyes,

Don’t blink, feel twice,

Be sure of your own example,

You find your way while you’re here,

While you’re awake, you go ahead,

But you’ll be set in stone if it comes,

Success and money, fame fuse,

Hit the target and take it, you are not lost.

You’re not guarding the chief

You’re not protecting the boss,

The apple of your eye,

God you guard the camp,

So there will be nothing.

You’re not protecting the boss,

So there will be no one with him,

You’re protecting your name

,so you’re a hoo-hoo.

You’re not protecting the boss,

Machine gunner, smuggler,

If anything, call me, bro,

You’re an imperialist.

You’re not protecting the boss,

So you’re like a beautiful psycho,

In the rear of the bandits is a diamond,

Just like in the picture, the strongest.

Pasha got up on the clock

Pasha got up on the clock,

They’re like a Mazda,

You hear the engine, and wah,

What is the basis for everything there?

If they twist Pasha’s hands,

Natasha won’t help either,

And we guys, in general,

We look at it through the Kalash.

If there are any problems there,

We don’t need polemics,

Solve them yourself, Nastya will say,

We’re sharper than a pencil.

When sudarushka arrives,

The fate of his suit is black,

Then you’ll get a pretty penny,

And to our hut prelai.

Letter

A cold email,

There are only lines of pain in it,

A feather is stuck in my heart,

It oozes blood,

And if you will,

He won’t come back,

I’m sorry, but we have stenches,

Like the marshes at the head of the bed.

Believe it or not,

But there are many turfs in life,

And if in the dawn of years,

You’re your own man, believe me.

When it arrives,

Only the north will save me,

And if you’re safe,

It will only be clover.

Watchdog

Your nickname, of course, is Watchdog,

Fits your collar,

You’re torn and I want to let go,

But you’re not coming back bandit bos,

I’ll let you go, but only for a moment,

If you run away, you’ll want to eat.

When you come back, I know where to look for you,

You’ll hide in

the yards opposite, You thoroughbred one, dragging your fate,

So, you’re not a mongrel, you should know

You went to the hunters, for nothing,

You don’t like cats to cheat.

City streets, schools, and burrs

City streets, schools, and burrs

Cars, soccer fields, like aliens,

We go to warehouses, gyms, and clubs,

We are like a detached generation, would,

But let’s just say we wanted to be like,

Our grandfathers and fathers, passed all the stages, a sign,

Courage, and were tomboys in the streets,

Grew up not in Moscow, but also here there are, patsy on behah,

What set the tone for the rest of bosota, nah,

You can’t bury these years, crooked and in bots,

Not from Guchi, we were hanging around, but in ordinary gray cross-country shoes,

Knead the lowdown with bolted feet,

If you ask if you have any regrets about the past years,

I will answer that no, it would be worse for us in the dungeons,

And if you must live, you must have pepper in your veins,

And to die, so without bitterness, on hard knees.

There Is A God

God is, he is not in Buddhism simply,

Buddhism is, he is not in God simply,

We are not the first Civilization in Kosma,

Samsara and Nirvana were always on Edge.

The Planet circles around the Sun,

A Disk of Gold glorifies Names,

We live, suffer, die and go to Heaven,

We are children of the Planets, dying in Nirvana.

There will be Heaven and Hell, everything is measured by life,

There is retribution, for sins according to Genesis,

But everything is temporary, we are in God, in the Son, in the Spirit,

Entire Nations, Mountains, And Everything Are Suffering.

Sanya is the same old one

North

North is not south, it is cold,

It is covered with snow, all taiga,

Miracles are around every corner,

There are bears walking barefoot.

Northern Lights at once,

Decorated the sky all for you,

Cranberries, wild garlic for you and me,

This place was chosen by fate.

Here people work, grow,

And they get married here too,

And friendship is Siberian,

One holds Cities together here.

More from Danila

Chocolate chips

Chocolate chips,

May I eat with you,

I’ll smear the corner of my mouth,

But then zatru made love,

Chocolate chips,

I loved to eat a lot since childhood,

I didn’t like cheese and ryashka,

We lost a lot of crumbs,

Chocolate chips,

You’re from memory basket,

You’re as sweet as a gift of carrots,

And it’s so hard to improve.

Opium

How much is opium for the people,

Ask how generous nature is to us,

Lenin, he was the first to praise the box,

Now on the box is his anthem,

Proletarians of all countries twist,

People from the people stir up,

Muti b hymn another, because they look,

But the goose is not a companion of the pig, holy,

He said we’d have cooks,

Edit from the kitchen, because they will sit down,

Vixens at the TV,

Why then does he use communism,

I wanted to plant it and planted it after all,

Perhaps he meant well.

Maybe he was right.

Lava flow

Money is asking for me,

I lift on-easy,

Money is asking to be put in your pocket,

I’ll give the boys free rein,

Money is asking for the table,

I’ll drop them, that’s a joke.

Mani-Mani-Mani,

Always full pockets,

I’ll translate everything in lava,

To be at the bratva.

Mani-Mani-Mani,

Come you druzhbany,

I’ll translate everything in lava,

To be like aces.

The cash gets paid to my account,

I understand the calculation,

Cash flies under the roof to me,

I’ll be in Badun with him,

Cash flies into the rings,

As in the trenches we are in the dust.

Cache, cache, cache.

Jesus Christ

Jesus Christ shed his blood for us,

His own, he did not steal, did not take revenge on them,

He couldn’t, because he’s not us, he’s our God,

And if you think you could, yeah,

I could, but he’s not like that, because he’s a God,

If you come and look at these,

His bones do not lie, he is holy to us,

You see, brother, he shed blood for us.

Mastaki

There were many cavaliers,

They entered the rush as masters,

They fought without brass knuckles,

But with knives and teeth,

In winter, summer and spring, in the blood,

They gave out punches to everyone.

It’s all golden in autumn,

It’s like a fairy tale from childhood,

With domes, with the sky, with foliage,

Blinded without coquetry,

With sunflowers, with fringe,

We’ve known each other since we were young.

I’ll go after the sunset

Beyond the sunset I will fly,

Beyond the fog, beyond the polar,

Sweet, so to me, in the early morning,

I want to forget myself there,

I’ll fly up with the pretended,

The best hang glider,

Meeting me there with brown-eyed,

Provided for in a brotherly way,

Because beyond the woods,

For the taiga with blueberries,

They’ll give me a fucking welcome,

And in Russian with miracles.

West, East

Through west to east

Let you dream

The hills above the sky swam,

The fog covered them with a veil,

Where have you gone on the wind,

Probably to the arches of the earth,

Where the sea breeze rejoices,

We’ll be happy there-believe me,

I don’t need snow with you,

But only the warmth of your lips,

You know I don’t need taiga,

I like a breeze for two.

Let you dream,

Colorful Nice,

Meetings on the shore,

Scarlet sunsets hum.

This mana is just for us,

Below, the surf hits the wharves,

We are carried by the north wind,

We, like animals, through the fragile crust,

Like birds we will fly up,

We are like people, but they are not,

Just you and me, in this case,

We were joined, lay down through the calm,

The spirit of the Earth rose-for tea,

You know, even the hound verse.

My life is mine again

Days pass, and you’re alone,

Just two paths, two ends,

I ran to you, not fate,

Too different, we’re not a couple.

Sometimes you find it, but you wait,

You leave, you lose, you wander.

I want to wish beautifully,

But I won’t bet on zero,

I’ll bet on the red jackpot,

I know they make bitches happy.

My life is mine again,

I’m free, but keeping an eye out,

Follow me, you’re losing your poison,

From cigarettes that will be inserted,

And I’m not sorry, not for a bit,

There will be no clouds in the way.

I multiply, the purchase is easy,

the Bank is not yet stingy in my hand,

I’ll leave the table-it’s time,

the heat has started here,

It’s just not for everyone,

Run that panther up,

Rise, fall, no,

My path will show me the trail,

This wildcat look,

I’ll have to harness it, by the way.

Gait

Here’s a Sharon Stone walk,

Though in the courtyard to you the queen,

The boys also stick around for all sides,

You’re not going to tap your shoes.

Don’t fight back, important lady,

The grooms incite wedges to you,

But you choose, you won’t get lost,

You’re being watched from all over the place.

You’ll be a lady riding a Ferrari,

Arrange evenings in restaurants,

The ministers are eager to visit you,

And you’re walking home from the store alone.

Mom can I have the dog

Mom can I have a dog,

I’ll feed her meat,

He plays, I’ll wash it,

I’ll call it a funny nickname.

Sylvester, come on, follow me,

You have a new owner,

A connoisseur of all sorts of suburbs,

Now, pretty boy, you’re mine.

If you want, we’ll drive the ball,

If you want, I’ll treat you to a chicken.

Don’t be sad, you’re a good friend,

We will go through time.

Why, you’re your own breed,

You don’t honor me, you’re such a prankster,

Just like me, you’re soaking wet,

Come on, make a path.

Tell me how much are the seeds worth

Tell me, how much are the seeds,

No, I won’t buy it, I don’t have any money,

The poet’s whole soul,

Penny bills,

I’ll feed them to tick,

The seed is asking for it.

I’ll throw them to the pigeons,

What the dove-colored ones are cooing,

And then, I’ll take them myself,

I’ll sell it in layers,

Societies of Readers,

Souvenirs of memory.

Cars

In short, I can’t stop my pain

In a word, my pain, I can not calm,

And do not erase the soot from the heart,

So why should I stand there again?

Forgive me for being nice, I’ll tell you.

Laugh when-all the crows,

To peck at the sod and olive trees,

Gathered, at the idleness in the parties,

Feathers will fly for the funeral.

After all, stronger than the wind, only gray,

Wolves, near the ground in the snow snuggled up, alas,

to treat them with bread from their hands, and loyal,

Fangs please, only I am harsh.

Prayer

Why do I need decay when my soul is not old?

Why diamonds, when diamonds,

Size and color, pleases my eyes,

Lord, so forgive me for my talent.

That Satan with His most pure rays,

I got it into my head, as if he was the strongest of all,

Lord, I’m sorry that the angel of light is nice to me,

That the raven couldn’t see through the veil.

Lord, forgive me and save my soul,

To live as on the outskirts of your village,

And so as not to punish, for all the blizzard,

The enemy is only strong when there is a blizzard

Chess

Small is bigger than big,

Like a king more than a king,

Without pawns, you are like before God,

Well, and with the elephant, so-Gogol.

Debut-beginning-of-bad,

To expect, so it’s a kobold,

Hard, tense, in a word,

The enemy of good is not a puncture.

And pawns are a stringy move,

Which the miss will take away,

This is a bun with a layer of butter,

So that you don’t think you’re knocked up.

What is your word worth

What is your word worth,

And what stands on the vine,

Can a word be like cloth,

I’ll point my finger, you’re in the shit,

You’ll turn, I can’t,

You’re funny, not harsh,

There is no work in your word,

I want to deviate,

It’s not worth talking about.

Law

The law is harsh, and we are idle,

We’re all getting old, dying,

We break and come back to life,

We want to go back, these are,

But there is a law, he does not hear,

Arguments and thoughts,

He has his own calculation for this,

As if having once sinned,

Repeat as soon as we find out,

Maybe you’re under oath,

But it hasn’t changed yet,

And you’ll have fun.

Love

All ages are submissive to love,

Both young and old he is,

But there are no such facts and times,

Which we can’t control.

Only a man in love,

Goes to his death, and backhands,

Beats his chest like a macaque,

There is a love primrose in it.

It will pass and be remembered,

Days, their happy turn,

But there will be no sadness-it,

It just feels like reality.

On foot

Pedestrians walk along the streets,

And there are gases from turbines, slags, a mixture,

What a nice day it was, winter,

And there are kids walking around, but the workshop.