Текст песни Отрывок - Мёртвые души

And what kind of Russian does not like fast driving? Whether it is a soul, striving to spin, walk, sometimes say: "Damn everything!" “Is it not to love her to love her?” Shouldn't I love her when something enthusiastically-art is heard in her? It seems that unknown force grabbed you on the wing to you, and you fly and everything flies: miles fly, merchants fly towards the irradies of their wagons, flies on both sides of the forest with dark systems of firs and pines, with an clumsy knock and a brown cry, flies The whole road is nave where in the missing distance, and something terrible is enclosed in this fast Melkanya, where the disappeared object does not have time to mean - only the sky above the head, and light clouds, and a widening month, some seem to be motionless. Eh, three! Bird Troika, who invented you? To know, you could only be born in the brisk people, in that land that I do not like to joke, and smoothly smolled at half a might, and go count the miles until it charges you in your eyes. And not cunning, seeming, a road shell, not with an iron, but hastily alive, with one ax and a chisel, the Yaroslavl, a quick man gathered and gathered you. Not in German boots, a coachman: a beard and a mitten, and sits the devil knows what; And he got up, but he waved, but he tightened the song - the horses with a whirlwind, the knitting needles in the wheels mixed in one smooth circle, only the road fluttered, and the stopped pedestrian cried out in the fright - and it rushed out, rushed, rushed! How something is dusting and drilling air.
Isn't it you, Russia that you are a brisk non -fertilized three, rushing? Smoke smokes under you road, the bridges rattles, everything is lagging behind and remains behind. The contemplator struck by God's miracle stopped: is it not lightning, dropped from the sky? What does it mean that is a terrifying movement? And what kind of unknown force is contained in these horses unknown by light? Eh, horses, horses, what a horses! Are they sitting in your mane? Is the ear sensitive in all your veins? They heard a familiar song from the embroidery, together and at once strained the copper breasts and, almost without touching the hooves of the earth, turned into some elongated lines flying through the air, and rushing, all inspired by God! .. Where are you rushing, give me an answer? Does not give an answer. A bell is poured with a wonderful ringing; thunders and becomes the wind torn into pieces of air; Everything that is on Earth flies past, and squinting, fixing and gives it the way to other peoples and states.