Текст песни Леонид Ака - Русь языческая

Pagan Russia
 Swipe, honor, a thousand years ago,
Ryscha trail on the Troyanova trail,
We’ll take our tale in a new way,
And according to the intent of Boyanov.
And let it be seen through the fog
For the plantings and for the weights,
As Boyan wanders around Russia,
Collecting stories with songs ...

Although Boyan is old, but with his soul he is young:
Vigilant eyes, zealous speeches,
And glisten with silver thin strings
Curls ringed Boyanov.
He didn’t pass his age with his seats -
Loves versts of ways to measure
And the expanse of fields, like a colored caftan,
On broad shoulders to try on.
Knock on the window a breeze
Beckon the harp from the chamber -
And leads, leads along twisted roads,
From the outskirts to the outskirts.
And the wanderer enters the yards of others,
Along with the transitional pegs,
And secretly - for a while, for the time being -
Hides the galley under the matting ...

Wide, widespread earth around.
And although it’s still snowy, cold,
But already Dazhbog golden key
A warm wind blew off at noon.
Already heard: in the grove the oaks rustle,
Throwing a crude thaw
Rockers in the sky hang smoke
Karkuny scattered across the steppe.
In vain a snowstorm waves a broom,
In vain the roar of a dipper -
The sun will push a thin finger into the gap,
And you look like a splinter, glows! ..

All the brighter flashes in the darkness
Ore heads rise.
In the sky is a white flame of gray-haired Winter
Beats with a scarlet spring flame!
Meet a white flame girl with a bucket,
He says to her: “Pour scarlet fire!
I'm for you ringing silver
I’ll come from the rich treasury! ”
And another fire promises identity;
To prevail over the cold:
“If you fill the white flame with water,
I will give you red gold! ”
Well, it’s clear: the girl is cunning with her mind,
It extinguishes a white fire, is not lazy,
For above pure silver
Red-gold is appreciated in the world! ..

Already in a sleigh they drove to burn
Idol of Shrovetide thatched.
- Full, full, Zimushka, wintering,
Thy stale bread filled my edge.

People praise the Spring Red
Yes, they are wondering about all the good;
Instead of bread, pancakes are now baked,
Similar to the browned sun.
And the hussar looks at everyone with greetings.
What is the secret of love from people?
It even seems like snow turns gray
It starts to thaw with curls ...
Oh you Russia, the reserved side!
Nowhere in the world can you see such a thing!
Heart fun as spring begins
On the ground, scatter the goodies!

All bold, limp and light
Ash winds blow
And in a hurry to untie the knots,
That from the winter on the branches tied.
The sun gives warmth more generously.
All dress is more elegant on willows.
Here comes the first booming spring thunder
Like a cart, it rolls across the sky.

Tea, everyone knows how a thunderstorm goes,
Like the nomad clouds coming
Suddenly a punch! - and dark skies
In a formidable thunder shudder!
This god Perun hits the anvil,
Hammer Lightning:
For spring, the coulters forge peasants,
Decorates with pure gold.

From across the sea, from faraway
Marvel at the thunderbolt,
The rosy clouds come
The virgins are magnificent, full-breasted.
And when Perun has a virgin hand
Thick hair
In Russia, a fragrant living river
Rain strips wash the steppe ...

Already, as if the shelves on the army,
In the pure field are the orats
Accepted juicy jerk planing,
Harvests bridge the rich.
Like a wife under her husband, the earth lies
Under the plows sharply chiseled,
Plowed fields breathe
Under the lightning gilded.
Like on a holiday, putting on their updates,
Combing the removed beards
Guys start spring sowing,
Generously seed is thrown into the furrows.
Everything is arable land: children and the elderly.
Someone rushes, dressed up as Yariloy.
Overwhelmed girls, weave wreaths;
Guys boast of youthful power.
According to the ancient tradition, before going to bed,
With a secret bliss woken up in spring
Showers themselves with oats:
“Come reap the oats, my betrothed!”

And the larks ring louder
All the magnificent birch trees are curly,
Spring early greens
Exactly chicks hatch.

From direct rays, from slanting rains
The expanse of the mother earth blooms
Wives conceive to bear children,
All