erstwhile upon a night of dusk,
They went to sleep in a hurry,
To wake up at dawn,
A occupation on a farm dedicated to hard,
And tiny farms,
Inherited from father to son,
They allowed pervasive poorness to survive,
For the next many families of the generation...
Today's street lanterns,
They light up long streets,
Though sometimes the brightness of them catchy,
They're stealing incriminating dirty puddles,
And the loud neon discos,
They take distant from the carelessness of everyday life,
Crowds of modern youth,
With traces of the past in contempt...
Once in many children's peasant families,
For a cup of warm milk,
A group of children waited patiently,
Taking him into his hands with gratitude in his eyes,
His dying heat,
Warming your hands slowly,
Before another long cold night,
They'll be marked by their childhood...
Today in fancy restaurants,
Cards full of elaborate dishes,
They tempt many wealthy clients,
And in cash without a thought,
But behind their marble threshold,
The beggars and homeless are not allowed,
The scorn of the eyes,
From close them always driven away...
Once upon a time a horse in a mediocre stable,
The treasure was truly priceless,
When in those days the poorness of the appointed,
A dense cut may have relieved,
And in all country household,
Fallen on the level of the bread,
They were raised very carefully.
Not to step on her shoe...
Today, business magnates,
On a lavish, lavish banquet,
They come in costly limos,
To item its advanced social status,
But in the midst of fine food,
on white tablecloths,
Corruption is frequently understood,
When it comes to another multimillion dollar bid...
Sometime fatal diseases
For many years they have been decimating
Populations of hundreds of vast villages,
With small children,
And about the children of hunger and cold,
In the past centuries,
No 1 remembers today,
Everybody just wants to play...
Today erstwhile in a flash,
The next fewer days,
And the dates of subsequent plastic surgery,
Booked in advance for weeks,
To deceive the time passing,
In the eyes of their fans,
They always felt beautiful and young,
Until the trivialized death...
Once in old peasant families,
When the maidenhood was over,
The condition of a good marriage,
A dowry was crucial for my daughter,
The care of inherited homes,
For generations, all effort was made,
The wooden walls of lime were bleached,
The bypass was carefully cleaned...
Today, after a lousy peasant shack,
The cold ashes have long gone,
There was no trace of them,
Everything around the advanced grass grew,
And sky-high glass towers,
New times silent are totems,
But the question remains open.
Are these times better than those...
