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 little those who want to wake upAnd in the morning leaving smileAnd wave his hand and smile,And the whole day worrying wait for news.How many of those with whom you can just liveDrink coffee in the morning, talk and argue,With whom you can ride rest on the sea,And as expected, and in joy and in sorrow,Be near, but not love.How little those who want to dream,Watch as clouds swarming in the sky,Write the word love on the first snow,And only think about this man,And happiness more do not know and do not wish for.How few are those who keep silent,Who understands perfectly, with a glance,Who do not mind to give year after year,And for whom you can as a reward Any pain, any penalty to take.And so it goes this rigmarole,Easy to meet, without the pain part,All why? That's because a lot of those Who can I go to bed,And few of those with whom I want to wake up.We mečemsâ, work, life, business,Who wants to hear, still have to listen toWhile on the run will see only the bodyStay, that would see the soul.We choose the heart, mind,Afraid to smile smileBut the soul open onlyWith that and want to wake up.How many of those with whom you can talkHow little those vibrantly molčan′e,When hope is thin threadBetween us, as a simple beautiful moments.How many of those with whom you can grieve,Questions to warm up doubts,How few are those with whom you can learnHimself as his life reflection.How many of those with whom it is better to remain silentWho would spill the beans in sadness,How little those we trustCould that have been hiding from yourself.With whom we find spiritual forcesHeart and soul who blindly believeWhom we will call,When the trouble to open our doors.How many of them with whom you can not mudrea,With whom we sorrow and joy, prigubiliProbably only thanksWe have this world of changeable loved.Eduard Asadov

Результаты (английский) 2:

How many of those with whom you can go to bed,
how little those who want to wake up,
and in the morning parting smile,
and waved and smiled,
And the whole day worrying about waiting for news.
How many of those with whom you can just live,
drink coffee in the morning, talking and arguing,
who do I go to rest at sea,
and as it should be, in joy and in sorrow,
be near, but not love.
How little those who want to dream, to
look like clouds swarming in the sky ,
to write the word love on the first snow,
and think only about the man,
and happiness more do not know and do not wish to.
How few of those with whom you can be quiet,
who understands perfectly, poluvzglyada,
who do not mind a year to give the year,
and for whom you will be able, as a reward,
any pain, any penalty to take.
That's how it weaves gimp,
easy to meet, break up without pain,
why? That's because a lot of those,
Who do I go to bed,
and a few of those with whom you want to wake up.
We rush, work, life, business,
who wants to hear, still have to listen,
but only the body you see on the run,
Stay, that would see the soul.
We choose the heart, the mind,
are afraid to smile to smile,
but the soul open only to those
with whom want to wake up.
How many of those with whom you can talk,
how little those who cherished the silence,
when all hope is slim thread
Between us, as a simple understanding.
How many of those with whom you can grieve,
Questions of heated doubt,
how few of those with whom you can learn
himself how his life reflection.
How many of those with whom it would be better to remain silent,
who does not spill the beans would be in mourning,
how little those whom we trust
Could that by itself concealed.
who forces we are sincere, we find
This heart and soul blindly believe,
whom we certainly will invite,
when trouble will open our doors.
How many of them, with whom you can not be wise,
whom we sip sorrow and joy,
I guess it just due,
we loved this world choppy.
Eduard Asadov

Результаты (английский) 3:

how many people can lie down in bed.how little those who want to wake upand in the morning parting smileand wave and smileand all day worried waiting for the news.how many people can live a simple lifedrink coffee in the morning, talking and arguing,who can go to rest on the seaand properly, and in joy and in sorrow.to be close, but it isn"t love.how much people want to dreamwatch the clouds bear in heavenwrite the words of love in the snow.and think about the personand happiness more don"t know and don"t want to.how few people can be quietwho understands completely, with полувзгляда,who"s not year after year to giveand what you can do as a reward.any pain, any punishment to take.so all this......easily meet, pain without breaking up.why? because a lot of peoplewho can i lie down in the bed.and few of those who want to wake up.we"re scrambling, the job, life, thingswho wants to hear, still have to listen toand you"ll see a running bodystop, what would be the soul.we choose the heart, mind,afraid to smile to smile,but the soul open towith whom you want to wake up.how many people can you talkhow little those who keep your peace.when hope thin threadbetween us, as simple пониманье.how many people can grievethe heat is.how little anyone can learn.like your life отраженье.how many of those who would rather keep silentdon"t hang out in griefhow little those who we trustcould what you were hiding.what force we"re soul findwho is the heart and soul of blindly believewhat we will callwhen we open our doors.how many, who can"t said,what we пригубили sorrow and joy,i guess they just thankswe loved this world changing.eduard asadov