Текст песни Иван Шмелев - Рождество.Лето Господне

"You'll wear the valenki, the sheepskin from the ram, the hat, the bashlychok, the frost, and do not bite." You'll come out-a singing ring, and the stars-you'll touch the gate. "And the snow is blue, strong, peppering thinly and thinly. Along the street there are snowdrifts, mountains, pink windows of lamps in the windows, and the air ... - blue, silvery dust, smoky, starry .. The gardens are smoking, the birches are white visions, they are dawdling in. The flaming fumes are pillars high up to the stars. Stellar ringing, singing, - floats, does not become silent, sleepy, ringing-miracle, ringing-vision, glorifying God in the highest, - Christmas.

You go and think: now I'll hear a sweet melody, a simple, special, some kind of childish, warm ... - and for some reason it seems a crib, the stars.

Your Christmas, Christ our God,
The Light of Mind is the Light of Reason ...

And somehow it seems that the old-long-ago that chant sacred ... was always. And will be.

At the corner of the shop, without doors. An old man is trading in a sheepskin coat, pressing. Behind the frozen glass - a familiar Angel with a golden flower, freezes. Was showered with brilliance. I held it recently, touched a finger. The Paper Angel. Well, the card ... was sprinkled with glitter, snowballing as if. Poor, freezes. Nobody buys it: dear. He pressed himself to the glass and froze.

You go from church. Everything is different. The snow is holy. And the stars are saints, new, Christmas stars. Christmas! You'll look into the sky. Where is she, that old star who appeared to the Magi? There she is: over Barmikhin's yard, over the garden! Every year - over this garden, low. She's bluish. Holy. Sometimes I thought: "If you go to her, you will come there. Here, come ... and bow with the shepherds Christmas! He is in a manger, in a small feeding trough, like in a stable ... Only you can not get there, it's freezing cold, you'll freeze! "Look, you look - and you think:" But with the star, the journey is moving! .. "

Volsvi? .. Hence - wise men, wise men. Ah, a little, I thought - wolves. Are you funny? Yes, kind wolves, thought. The star leads them, and they go, quieted down. Little Christ was born, and even good wolves are now. Even wolves are happy. True, well, after all? Their tails are omitted. They go and look at the star. And she leads them. So she did. Do you see, Ivushka? And you shut your eyes ... You see - the manger with the hay, the bright-light boy, beckons the handle? .. Yes, and the wolves ... all beckon. As I wanted to see! .. Sheep there, cows, pigeons fly up the rafters ... and the shepherds, bent down ... and the kings, the Magi ... And now, the wolves approach. We have a lot of them in Russia! .. They look, and they are afraid to enter. Why are they afraid? And they are ashamed ... they were evil. You ask - will they let you in? Well, of course, they will. They will say: Well, you come in, now it's Christmas! And the stars ... all the stars there, at the entrance, crowd, shine ... Who are the wolves? Well, of course, glad.

Sometimes, I look and I think: Farewell, until the next Christmas! Eyelashes froze, and from the star all the arrows, arrows ...

You go to Bushuyu. This we had a dog, shaggy, big, lived in a kennel. Hay is there, warm to her. I want to say that it's Christmas, that even good wolves are now walking with a star ... Shout into the kennel - "Bushuyka!". The chain will zagremit, wake up, snort, will strike a muzzle, kind, soft. He will water his hand, as if he will say: yes, Christmas. And - the heart is warm, with happiness. "