Текст песни Падение Перуна - 2. Русь языческая

Pagan Russia

Let's brush it off, honor it, a thousand years ago,
Scouring the trail on the trail Troyanova,
We will lead our tale not in a new way,
And according to the intention of Boyanov.
And let him gaze through the fog,
Behind the plantations and behind the veins,
As Bojan wanders about in Russia,
Gathering loyalties with songs ...

Although old Boyan, and soul - young:
Eyes are sharp, speeches are zealous,
And shine silvery thin strings
Ring-shaped curls Bojanov.
He did not spend his time with sydneys -
He loves versts of ways to measure out
And the expanse of fields, like a colored caftan,
On broad shoulders to try on.
A breeze will knock on the window,
The guslar from the upper room will beckon-
And leads, leads along the twisted roads,
From the outskirts - to the outskirts.
And the stranger enters into the strange courtyards,
In a row with gables,
And secretly - until vremechka, until the time -
Hides the goose under the mats ...

Broad, the earth is wide.
And although it's still snowy, cold,
But already Dazhbog with a golden key
A warm wind broke out from noon.
Already heard: in the grove of oaks make a noise,
Calling a raw thaw,
There are fumes in the sky in the sky,
The carcans scattered across the steppe.
A snowstorm waving to the wind,
Povnaprasnu roars bears -
The sun will slip a thin finger into the gap,
And you look, like a ray, it's shining! ..

All the brighter moments in the darkness
Raise the ore heads.
In the sky a white flame of gray winter
Beats with scarlet spring golomyem!
Will meet a white flame girl with a bucket,
He says to her: "Pour in the flame of scarlet!
I for that you zvonchatym silver
Out of the rich treasury I'll meet you! "
And another fire promises the identity;
To prevail over the cold:
"If you fill a white flame with water,
I will gift you with red gold! "
Well, it is clear: the girl is cleverly wise,
It extinguishes a white fire, does not lazy,
For above the pure silver
Red gold in the world is appreciated! ..

Here already in a sleigh they were brought to burn
Idol of Pancake week.
- It's full, full, Zimushka, to spend the winter,
Stale bread yours nailed.

People praise the mercy of Spring-red
Yes, they are wondering about all the good things;
Now bread is baked instead of bread,
With toasty sun similar.
And the gusliar greeted everyone with greetings.
What is there to hide the love of people from people?
Even imagines that the gray snow
Starts to thaw with curls ...
Oh, you are Russia, the reserved side!
Nowhere else in the world can not see!
Heart is fun, as spring begins
On the ground, the presents are scattered!

All bold, plodding and easy,
The wind comes from ash
And they hurry to untie the nodules,
That since winter on the branches are tied.
The sun gives warmth more generously.
All dressed elegantly on the willows.
Here is the first booming spring thunder,
Like a cart, it rolls across the sky.

Tea, it is familiar to everyone, as there is a thunder-storm,
As the wandering clouds are approaching, -
Suddenly a blow! - and the dark heavens
In a terrible roar shudder!
It is the god of Perun who strikes the anvil,
The lightning strikes the hammer:
The openers to the peasants by the spring are forging,
It decorates with gold.

From behind the sea, from far away,
To marvel at the thunderous deletion,
Ruddy clouds come in,
Virgins are magnificent, full-breasted.
And when Perun at those maidens hand
He untwists his thick hair,
In Russia, a scented live river
Wash the steppe rain bands ...

Already, as if the regiments were to fight,
In the pure field go oratai,
Take a juicy aria to plan,
Yields to pave the rich.
As a wife under her husband, lies the earth
Under the plows sharply sharpened,
Breathe the bare plowed fields
Under the glow of gilded.
Like a holiday, refreshing their clothes,
Combing his long beards,
The peasants start spring sowing,
Generously the seed is thrown into the furrows.
Everything is on the plow: children and old people.
Someone rushes, finishing with Jaril.
The girls are weaving, weaving wreaths;
The boys brag about young strength.
According to the custom of the ancient, before bed,
With a secret unfamiliar, in the spring awakened,
They shower the girls with oats:
"Come and eat the oats, my betrothed!"

And larks are ringing louder,
All the more magnificent birches curl,
Spring early greenery,
Exactly the birds, hatch.

From direct rays, from oblique rain
Bloom is the breadth of the mother earth,
Winning a wife to bear children,