little pilot


My dear friend, my pilot,
I want you pogladet
As of monthly roams the sky,
As the forest wandering bear

As the light of lightning in the open space,
As the morning goes on the wane,
As the river to the distant sea
Winter and summer swimming.

Recently I was bored at home -
I swept the field and garden.
I know the sky is not -
What's in it order and harmony?

So: high above the ground
We will fly and fly.
Take me the pilot, with him -
You will not regret it.

Would fly over the sea to the east,
Sail on a big ship,
Would fly high, far away
And the bird circling over the Kremlin.

And there in the sky flying,
Cry over the country, over the people:
"Good day, dear capital!
Bow airplane accept! "71