Текст песни Аудиосказка - моя любимая Сказка о Дожде

Rain did not part with me in the morning.
- Oh, get off! - I spoke rudely.
He retreated, but faithfully and sadly
again followed me like a little daughter.

The rain has grown like a wing to my back.
I reproached him:
- Shame on you wretch!
The gardener calls out to you in tears!
Go to the flowers!
What have you found in me?

Meanwhile, there was a harsh heat around.
The rain was with me, forgetting about everything in the world.
Children were dancing around me
like a watering machine.

I, with cunning in my heart, entered the cafe.
I hid behind a table covered with a niche.
The rain outside the window settled down like a beggar
and through the glass he wanted to come to me.

I left. And there was my cheek
punished with a slap in the face of moisture,
but then the Rain, in sorrow and courage,
washed my lips with the scent of a puppy.

I think my appearance has become ridiculous.
I tied a damp handkerchief around my neck.
Rain on my shoulder, like a monkey, sat.
And the city was confused by this.

Delighted with my weakness,
he tickled my ear with a child's finger.
Drought deepened. Everything was dry.
And only I got wet to the bone.

2

But I was invited to that house,
where they were strictly waiting for my greetings,
where above the amber lake of parquet
the clear moon rose from the chandeliers.

I thought: what should I do with the Rain?
After all, he will not want to part with me.
He will inherit there. He will wet the carpets.
Yes, they won't let me into the house with him.

I strictly explained: - Kindness
strong in me, but still not unlimited.
It is indecent for you to walk with me.
The rain looked at me like an orphan.

- Well, to hell with you, - I decided, - go!
What kind of love will you shed on me?
Ah, this strange climate, damn it! -
The Forgiven Rain jumped in front.

3

The owner of the house did me the honor
which I was not worth. However,
soaked all over the skin, like a muskrat,
I called at the door exactly at six.

The rain lurking behind my back
breathed in the back of his head pitifully and ticklishly.
Footsteps - peephole - silence - heck.
I apologized: - This Rain is with me.

May he be on the porch?
It's too wet, too elongated
for rooms.
- How? - said surprised
the owner who has changed in the face.

4

Frankly, I loved this house.
Lightness has always done her ballet in it.
Oh, the corners here don't hurt your elbow,
here the finger will not be cut with the knife.

Loved everything: how slowly they crunch
silk of the hostess, shaded by a scarf,
and most of all, captivated by the closet -
my sleeping princess - crystal.

The seven-blush pinkish spectrum
in a glass coffin, dead and lovely.
But I woke up. Greetings ritual
as an opera, it was danced and sung.

five

The hostess of the house, to be honest,
I would certainly not love,
but shyness is out of date
slightly disturbed her, which was in vain.

- How are you? (Oh shine of a thunderstorm,
humble in the thin neck of a proud man!)
- Thank you, - I said, - in a fever
I was lying like a pig in the mud.

(Something was happening to me this time.
After all, I wanted to bow weakly and say:
- I live vainly, but gloriously,
especially since I see you again.)

She said:
- I scold you.
Have mercy, such a gift!
Through the rain! And distance, remoteness! -
All shouted:
- To her fire, to her fire!

- Someday, in another time,
in the square, amid music and abuse,
we could meet at the drum,
cried you:
- Into her fire, into the fire!

For all! For the rain! For after! For then!
For the witchcraft of the two blackest pupils,
for the sounds, from the lips, like cherry seeds,
flying without any difficulty!

Hello to you! Aim the jump at me.
Fire, my brother, my dog ​​is multilingual!
Lick my hands in great tenderness!
You are also Rain! How wet is your burn!

- Your somewhat bizarre monologue, -
said the wounded owner.
But, by the way, glory grew green!
There is charm in the young generation.

- Don't listen to me! I'm delirious!
I asked. - All this is Rain over