Как много тех, с кем можно лечь в п

Как много тех, с кем можно лечь в постель,
Как мало тех, с кем хочется проснуться,
И утром расставаясь улыбнуться,
И помахать рукой и улыбнуться,
И целый день волнуясь ждать вестей.
Как много тех, с кем можно просто жить,
Пить кофе утром, говорить и спорить,
С кем можно ездить отдыхать на море,
И как положено, и в радости и в горе,
Быть рядом, но при этом не любить.
Как мало тех, с кем хочется мечтать,
Смотреть, как облака роятся в небе,
Писать слова любви на первом снеге,
И думать лишь об этом человеке,
И счастья большего не знать и не желать.
Как мало тех, с кем можно помолчать,
Кто понимает с полуслова, с полувзгляда,
Кому не жалко год за годом отдавать,
И за кого ты, сможешь, как награду,
Любую боль, любую казнь принять.
Вот так и вьется эта канитель,
Легко встречаются, без боли расстаются,
Все почему? Все потому, что много тех,
С кем можно лечь в постель,
И мало тех, с кем хочется проснуться.
Мы мечемся, работа, быт, дела,
Кто хочет слышать, все же должен слушать,
А на бегу увидишь лишь тела,
Остановитесь, что бы видеть душу.
Мы выбираем сердцем, по уму,
Боимся на улыбку улыбнуться,
Но душу открываем лишь тому,
С которым и захочется проснуться.
Как много тех, с кем можно говорить,
Как мало тех, с кем трепетно молчанье,
Когда надежды тоненькая нить,
Меж нами, как простое пониманье.
Как много тех, с кем можно горевать,
Вопросами подогревать сомненья,
Как мало тех, с кем можно узнавать,
Себя, как своей жизни отраженье.
Как много тех, с кем лучше бы молчать,
Кому не проболтаться бы в печали,
Как мало тех, кому мы доверять
Могли бы то, что от себя скрывали.
С кем силы мы душевные найдем,
Кому душой и сердцем слепо верим,
Кого мы непременно позовем,
Когда беда откроет наши двери.
Как много их, с кем можно не мудря,
С кем мы печаль и радость пригубили,
Наверно только им благодаря,
Мы этот мир изменчивый любили.
Эдуард Асадов

Результаты (английский) 1:

How many of those with whom you can go to bed
How few are those who want to wake up in the morning and always smile
,
and wave his hand and smile the whole day
nervously waiting news.
As many of those with whom you live,
Drink coffee in the morning, talking and arguing, you can ride with whom
relax
and, as expected, and in joy and in sorrow,
be near, but not love.
How few are those who want to dream
look how many clouds in the sky,
Write the word love on the first snow,
and only think about this person, not greater happiness
and know and do not want.
how few of those with whom you can sit silent,
who understand perfectly, with a glance To the
do not mind year after year to give
And whom you will be able, as a reward,
Any pain, any penalty to take.
so winds this rigmarole,
Easily meet, without the pain part,
All why? That's because a lot of those
who can I go to bed,
and few are those who wants to wake up.
We mečemsâ, work, life, matter,
who wants to hear, still must listen on the run and you'll see
only body
Stay that would see the soul.
we choose the heart, the mind, we are afraid to smile smile

But the soul open only
that and really want to wake up.
As many of those with whom you can speak
how little those vibrantly molčan′e
When hope is thin thread
between us as simple beautiful moments.
As much of those who can I grieve,
,
doubts heated Issues As few are those who see Themselves as its
life reflection.
As many of those with whom you'd better keep quiet, those who would spill the beans
in sadness,
how little those to whom do we trust
would something from a concealed.
who find spiritual strength we
Who blindly believe the heart and soul, Whom we will also invite

When trouble is to open our doors.
as a lot of them with whom you can not mudrea,
We sorrow and joy prigubili, Probably due to them

We love changing this world.
Eduard Asadov

Результаты (английский) 2:

How many of those with whom you can go to bed,
how little those who want to wake up
in the morning and parting smile,
and waved and smile,
And all day to wait anxiously for news.
How many of those with whom you can just live,
drink coffee in the morning, talking and arguing,
Who can go to rest at sea,
and as expected, in joy and in sorrow,
be near, but not love.
How little those who want to dream,
Watch as swarming clouds in the sky ,
write the word love on the first snow,
and only think about this person,
and not greater happiness and not wanting to know.
How few of those with whom you can be silent,
who understands perfectly, poluvzglyada,
who do not mind to give year after year,
and for whom you can, as a reward,
any pain, any penalty to take.
Here and winds this rigmarole,
easy to meet, break up without pain,
why? That's because many of those
Who can I go to bed,
and a few of those who want to wake up.
We rush, work, life, business,
Who wants to hear, still have to listen
on the run And you see only the body,
Stop in to see the soul.
We choose the heart, the mind,
are afraid to smile to smile,
but the soul, open only to those
with whom he wants to wake up.
How many of those with whom you can talk,
how few of those with whom cherished silence,
when all hope is slim thread
Between us, as a simple understanding.
How many of those with whom you can grieve,
preheat Questions of doubt,
how few of those with whom you can learn,
myself, as a reflection of his life.
How many of those with whom it would be better to remain silent,
Who does not spill the beans would be in sorrow,
as a few of those whom we trust
Could that hide from yourself.
Whom mental strength we find,
To the heart and soul blindly believe
Who we certainly will invite,
When misfortune will open our doors.
How many of them, with whom you can not wiser
Who we sipped sadness and joy,
I guess they only thanks
We loved this world changeable.
Eduard Assad

Результаты (английский) 3:

How much those with whom you can lie in bed,
how little those with whom you don't want wake up,
and indeed this morning smile,
and city listings by hand and smile,
and a day without worrying about running out to wait for promised.
how much those with whom you can simply live,
Drink coffee this morning, to speak and argue,
with whom you can relax on the sea coast,
and, as has been made, and, in joy and in sorrow,
be next to, but this is not love.
how little those with whom you don't want dream,
watch as clouds in the sky you discover,
Write the words love on the first snow,
and only think about this man,
and happiness more not to know and not much.
how little those with whom you can keep their mouths shut,
who understands with something more than, with fellow Central Asian teams,
who is not bad for a year to give,
AND for whom you are, you, as a reward,
any pain, any penalty to take.
this way and meanders through this red velvet,
is easily found, without pain presenting,
all why? All of this is because that there are many those
with whomever you can lie in bed,
and there is little the,With whom you don't want wake up.
we мечемся, work, welfare, the cases,
who wants to hear, the same must listen to,
A in a rush you'll see only the body,
a stop, that would be to see per capita.
we choose the heart, intelligence,
afraid to smile you smile,
But per capita are opening only,
with which and want waking up.
how much those with whom you can speak,
how little those, with whom rude молчанье,
when hopes several noises recurred throughout the thread,
International us, as well as a simple пониманье.
how much thoseWith whom you can hypothetical,
with heat-poscas a shout,
how little those with whom you can learn,
itself, as well as its life отраженье.
how much those with whom it is best to remain silent,
who is not проболтаться would be in sadness,
how little thoseTo whom we trust
could be the fact that, from a concealed.
with whom mental force, we find,
who heart and soul blindly trust,
whom we necessarily politician said,
when misfortune opens our door.
how much their, with whom you can do not Mudrea highlighted,
With whom we sorrow and joy пригубили,
probably only them thanks,
we this world floating loved.
Eduard Asadov