Текст песни Евгений Исакевич - Продавец дождя

A man walked once
Loaded with worries
Checking on paper
Where the best way lay.
'Cause everyone craves the sun
Only after discovering
That the flasks are not bottomless
And the house is already far away.

He writhes in the desert
From thirst, like torture
Wishing to meet alone
Hope rich
What will rain pour down from the sky
And soak to the skin
Face, eyes and shoulders
Kissing at random.

But, escaping from captivity
Desert deserts
He will feel on the body
River coolness shine.
And after, without fail,
Forget it for a long time
Those drops that flew
Salvation from heaven.

And you will understand by repenting
That rain is dirt and wind
What a load of wet burden
Taken in vain by you
What branches, getting wet,
They beat my body like whips
A wet soles
Treacherously gliding.

And maybe it doesn’t matter
That everything will freeze in winter
What's the ice road
Slippery both there and here,
A mirror will tell
That the first hoarfrost fell
And the drops won't help
From acquired colds.

Gathered lonely
In pursuit of health
Do you remember on the road
Melting ice
That long-awaited downpour
He was warmer than blood
And by the way, cleaner than many
Water sources.

That rain, warming frozen
Crazy fire noticing
On the leaves and on the books
Will manage to extinguish.
And from him faster
Flowers and children grow
And he will shed instantly
Just worth asking.

Rain drives the wind
Carrying from century to century,
Again greedily seeking moisture
Thirsty mouth.
But all the rains in the world
Having fallen, flow down into the rivers
And also serve as food
For putrid swamps.