Текст песни Отрывок - Мёртвые души
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Здесь расположен текст песни Отрывок - Мёртвые души, перевод и видео.
Не так ли и ты, Русь, что бойкая необгонимая тройка, несешься? Дымом дымится под тобою дорога, гремят мосты, всё отстает и остается позади. Остановился пораженный божьим чудом созерцатель: не молния ли это, сброшенная с неба? что значит это наводящее ужас движение? и что за неведомая сила заключена в сих неведомых светом конях? Эх, кони, кони, что за кони! Вихри ли сидят в ваших гривах? Чуткое ли ухо горит во всякой вашей жилке? Заслышали с вышины знакомую песню, дружно и разом напрягли медные груди и, почти не тронув копытами земли, превратились в одни вытянутые линии, летящие по воздуху, и мчится, вся вдохновенная богом!.. Русь, куда ж несешься ты, дай ответ? Не дает ответа. Чудным звоном заливается колокольчик; гремит и становится ветром разорванный в куски воздух; летит мимо всё, что ни есть на земле, и косясь, постораниваются и дают ей дорогу другие народы и государства.
And what Russian does not like fast driving? Is it his soul, trying to spin, to go for a walk, to say sometimes: "damn it all!" - Is it his soul not to love her? Is it not to love her when something is heard ecstaticly wonderful? It seems that an unknown force has picked you up on your wing, and you fly yourself, and everything is flying: miles are flying, merchants are flying towards them on the shelves of their wagons, a forest with dark frames of fir-trees and pines flying from both sides, with a clatter of hooves and crow's cries, flies all the way to the far-away distance, and something terrible is enclosed in this rapid flash, where the lost object does not have time to be identified, only the sky above the head, and the light clouds, and the waving month alone seem immovable. Oh, three! A bird of three, who invented you? you know, you could only be born to a brisk people, in a land that does not like to joke, but it's evenly spread out smoothly on the half-light, and go on counting versts until it's in your eyes. And not cunning, it seems, the road projectile, was not grabbed by an iron with a screw, but quickly, with one ax and a chisel, Yaroslavsky quick-witted man equipped and assembled you. Not in the German jackboots coachman: beard and mittens, and sits the devil knows what; but he raised his head and threw it back, but tightened the song - the horses swirl, the spokes in the wheels mingled in one smooth circle, only the road fluttered, and the pedestrian stopped crying in fright - and then she rushed, rushed, rushed ... And now you can see in the distance, as something is stinging and drilling air.
Do not you, too, Russia, that a brisk, unreachable three are riding? Smoke smokes under your road, bridges rumbl, everything lags behind and remains behind. The contemplative astonished by God's miracle stopped: was not this lightning thrown from the sky? what does this horrifying movement mean? and what is the unknown power in these unknown horses? Oh, horses, horses, what kind of horses! Are there vortexes in your manes? Does an eerie burn in any of your veins? We heard a familiar song from the height, we unfastened our copper breasts and, almost without touching the hoofs of the earth, turned into some elongated lines flying through the air, and rushes, all inspired by God! .. Russia, where are you rushing, give an answer? Does not give an answer. A bell rings with a wonderful ringing; The air is rumbling and the wind is torn to pieces by the wind; everything that is not on the earth flies by, and other peoples and states give way and repentance and give way to it.
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