sergei yesenin performed by the group yabloko 2.0 in the bodkaslab program. there we also have to realizesergei aleksanich was an imagist, that’s what he was called, in case anyone has forgotten, a school course of literature, such a direction when colors and images were especially valued, yes, it’s like photographic engraving work, the art nouveau era, probably, but everything falls into pieces like this, yura, why don’t you put modern poets to music that they don’t reach, well, time. in general, we release one album a year, this is not bad, every year, now we are preparing two more, that’s why, but yesenia inspired us so much that i think maybe we’ll come up with something else later, yasenin, he the guy is not easy in the sense of show business, he went to america, he had an idea to win success, he was neighbors, yes, he took the girl. in everything like a beaver, as kustodiev wrote, here is his, you understand that it’s an american car, fans, and maringov writes, i look at yesenin, and he has straight nodules, and his hand is trembling, he still walked with a cane, well, , this is glo

expression on your face, i had the same thing this summer, when my beloved friend irevich berendyukov, the yablokoryanochka based on the lyrics of sergei alexandrovich. yuri ekovich, come on, marina stanislavovna, please, give us the first song so that we can immediately understand what the caliber of what is happening is, hello, china. stay on my side, the streak of grief, just climb into the salon. like the scythe across the river, only letska, the beauty of nazareth, the old church will fade away, throwing itself into the clouds into a cross, a sick cuckoo does not fly to sad places, a sick cuckoo does not fly from sad places. for you, on my side, every year in the flood, from the pod and the knapsack, the pious pours the flood, the rescuer and the knapsack, to the gods. malny pours under, dusty faces are tanned, eyelids smooth out the distance, digs into the weak body, saving the meek seal, clinging... it’s not the body that saves the meek va sad, the old nalma, the burning one, is trying. voices, but not the stock store, but the riverside one. only lesda pasalonka, you are a spit across the r