by us, the whole family.
The avenue there of heroes of glory is, attractions not to consider there, to Kids in joy and an entertainment, Rest and silence around.
The soldier, fire there eternal is on the square Walk of Fame, the flame of an eternal flame That we remembered Burns there and did not forget, heroes!
Fallen for the fatherland, For the homeland, for the favourite city.
There our memory, our honor, That glory to the Russian soldier,
To the hero – the battles of Moscow,
To the hero of fight for the favourite city.
Praise to it both honor, and glory!
There the church on the hill costs, the Bell ringing,
Holy Trinity throne.
The church choir sings psalms, the Priest begins a liturgy.
He asks God about rescue of soul.
Alexy patriarch there somehow was, He blessed parishioners, He conducted service, in arrival that, And the cross built, And our Saint sprinkled it with holy water, that day, on that holiday,
Feast of the Cross.
There stadium Saturn, football club.
Playing soccer win.
GOAL! – GOAL! The victory is so close,
Here a goal of the last throw, here a long-awaited victory in a match.
There a monument the childhood stand still, Here the Gene crocodile, with it the Cheburashka, Here Shapoklyak old woman, with her her Larisa, her favourite, a little rat.
Here kot-Matroski on shops sits, with it his friend, sobaka-Sharik
They sit and speak about something?
Here Carat, their birdie is vociferous, she Sits, and listens to friends.
Here mail, the mail carrier here Pechkin, And his bicycle, it near it.
The fountain – the favourite of children, Fine composition of fun.
The fountain of miracles is there, of the fairy tale not to consider Pushkin, There the cat everything goes on a chain around, Telling us fairy tales.
Fairy tales, verses, stories, the Favourite poet – Pushkin fairy tales are loved.
There Chekhov at recreation center lives,
There the lady waits for the doggie, she Sits on a bench, it is powdered with snow.
Winter – winter, winter!
There the bee Maya at the road costs, Is beautiful and alive!
The bee – children is time, it Is loved by all.
Here Buratino, Durimar,
Tartila here, with it a key gold.
There Karabas, his theater there,
There Artemon, Malvina there.
There foxes and cat, two sly fellows of darlings of the childhood.
To the favourite fairy tale of the childhood.
There the uncle Stepa is a militiaman, He keeps order.
There our fairy tales lodged, There we live, in the beautiful city – native.
About the Russian land
Young Russia! – Favourite country;
Young Russia! – Beautiful country;
Young Russia! – Great country;
Young Russia! – Power, my Russia:
Open spaces are wide! – Streams are clean;
The woods are dense. – a gold birchwood’s;
Open spaces of free Russia are clean! – Are infinite, they – are great!
Our open spaces are wide! – Clean mother earth!
About female beauty
About! – Wife's! Fine creation,
In love fine their blossoming of petals.
Beauty of a bud – love weeds, Tsvetkov of their fine scarlet petals.
Blossoming on terrestrial open spaces, Love of flowers, love of fine petals of love.
Weeds souls, in open spaces distant, In love of fine purity – souls, flight of love of flowers fine female purity.
About the Woman
About! – Women! You are so beautiful;
About! – Women! You are so artful;
About! – Women! You are so clean:
Women are beautiful! – Are loved;
Women are beautiful! – Are clever;
Beloveds! – Are beautiful;
Women are desired! – Are loved;
Women are beautiful! – Are harmonious:
Verses it is full of soul of the poet,
About! – Women! – Soul of the poet.
Portrait, artist El Greco.
The mystery of Christmas is fine,
My beloved.
Beauty fine beam sun gold, Dawn, fine dawn of a morning dawn.
About dashing guys
Bloody sport, sport of heroes of glory!
Heroes of glory, cemetery rest.
Dashing times, robbery of the ninetieth.
Dashing guys, automatic machine squall, Murders and prison, and here skilly.
The shooter dashing on plank beds sits, And remembers days of the former fires.
When they the bloody power were, He remembers days dashing.
Where they controlled an obshor, In a money power, it was blinded.
In a game without rules, automatic machines a squall, In a game of bloody that.
In it a rate life, in it loss death,
