Lyrics Харатьян Дмитрий - Баллада о первом дожде минус
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The lyrics of the song are provided for your reference Харатьян Дмитрий - Баллада о первом дожде минус, and also a translation of a song with a video or clip.
Когда роняет капли первый дождь
И гром из тучи катится на крышу,
Бьёт город мой предпраздничная дрожь,
И я её душой и кожей слышу.
Дожди в начале лета, как стихи,
Нас возвышают до своих истоков;
И кажется-раз улицы тихи-
Всё в наших душах мирно и высоко.
И дрогнет гладь оконного стекла,
Острее станут запахи бульвара,
И заглядятся зданья в зеркала
Глубоких, словно реки, тротуаров.
Смешение воды и высоты...
Идёшь, спокойно,медленно, не кроясь;
И кажется-раз улицы чисты-
Чисты у всех у нас душа и совесть.
То каплями, то струями бьёт дождь,
То точкой, то тире стучится в раму.
И кажется, что всё , чего ты ждёшь,
О встрече посылает телеграмму.
When drops drop first rain
And thunder from the cloud rolls to the roof,
My city is shaking before the holiday,
And I can hear it with my soul and skin.
Rains in early summer, like poetry,
We are elevated to our sources;
And it seems, once the streets are quiet,
Everything in our souls is peaceful and high.
And the glass window will tremble,
The smells of the boulevard will become sharper,
And look into the buildings in the mirror
Deep, like a river, pavements.
Mixing water and height ...
You walk, calmly, slowly, without being covered;
And it seems, once the streets are clean-
We all have a pure soul and conscience.
That drops, then the streams beat the rain,
That point, then the dash knocks on the frame.
And it seems that everything that you are waiting for,
He sends a telegram about the meeting.
And thunder from the cloud rolls to the roof,
My city is shaking before the holiday,
And I can hear it with my soul and skin.
Rains in early summer, like poetry,
We are elevated to our sources;
And it seems, once the streets are quiet,
Everything in our souls is peaceful and high.
And the glass window will tremble,
The smells of the boulevard will become sharper,
And look into the buildings in the mirror
Deep, like a river, pavements.
Mixing water and height ...
You walk, calmly, slowly, without being covered;
And it seems, once the streets are clean-
We all have a pure soul and conscience.
That drops, then the streams beat the rain,
That point, then the dash knocks on the frame.
And it seems that everything that you are waiting for,
He sends a telegram about the meeting.