The last poem Leonid Filatov

In this poem all you need to know about the love and desire to live.

The well-known actor, writer and a man of remarkable talent Leonid Filatov very sick, and before his death he spent a lot of time in the hospital. After a serious operation, he could and should have died, but his life was a little granddaughter, Olya, for which he had lived for several years. That it before his death the actor managed to write this poem.

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Klyatyh One year too many years, I sometimes slip from his hospital bed.
Raking his wreckage and debris, and a reconstructed skeleton.
And steal myself from sensitive nurses nostrils scenting the pungent smell will,
I ran to the two-year granddaughter Ole, there on life-smelling space.

We Olya went to a children's park, sit on your favorite swing,
Wilderness juice, ice cream eating, staring at people walking dogs.
Attractions were a dime a dozen, but the day was burning, and the sun cooled off,
Olya tired, lagged behind and quietly moaned: "Grandfather, wait a minute».

Leaving behind the Lord's day, I returned to the walls of the hospital visit,
But in the House of Olin I heard a voice: "Give me your hand, my grandfather, my grandfather, wait ...»
And I godil, godil how have the strength, and in the next bed is not godili,
Grew sickly, dried up, withered, leaving no one asked them the weather is not.

When I smell a burning sensation in my chest, I can see the other end of the field
To me rushing little Olya he screams: "Grandfather-ah, wait-and ...»
And I gozhu I still gozhu and seems sterplyu any flour,
While the tiny hand in his battered hand still holding.

Photos in the preview: Pavel Platonov

These poems by the author.

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via www.adme.ru/tvorchestvo-pisateli/sovremennye-stihi-kotorye-vynimayut-iz-tebya-dushu-693305/