Lyrics Владимир Селицкий - Мы идём
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Дождь идёт, и мы идём.
Ноговицею по спицам.
Сорок мороков и дён,
Только в дыхе дух яснится.
Только в трепете сурдин
Колоб лун, ершистый пращник,
Протимошит к выси рдин,
Клешни выпятив у пашни.
Скородумий жнём князей,
Очи тупим потуляны.
Отставной, едрить, козе
Барабанщика не для мы.
Ворох хворых, снами лих,
Хаты блекнут, дыр с плетня вил,
Степь сурьмит, спят на мели,
Кто себя не счёл, сконявил.
Мы поём осокой дней
Прищемлив за фартук солнце,
Хуторян занырь о дне
Рвём гранатой в перепонцах.
Лаги крепим у небес
За божницей гвозди прячем,
Раздаём на вес невест
Дням горячим пни корячим.
Ощелух сермяжных дум
Маем оземь в отощаны.
Кто без просыха жмых дул
Спит рекой в штанах дощаных.
И тела суровим к льдам,
Уши к северу завострим.
Мыкать горе пёсьим мздам,
За помин души иль постриг.
Rain goes, and we go.
Nogwice on the spokes.
Forty of Motokov and Den
Only in the breath is clear.
Only in the thrill of Surdin
Cobrob Lun, Brushy Praspist,
Will move to the cast of the Radine,
Cleash taking Pashnya.
Strengthening the princes,
The eyes of tupim smelled.
Retired, enjoy, goat
Drummer is not for us.
Heap of his twigs, dreams of Lych,
Huts flexible, holes from the shouldn fork,
Steppe gravit, sleep on the mel
Who did not count ourselves, Skonaven.
We sing for more days
Pinned for the apron of the sun,
Farmers Zanyra about the day
River grenade in the interposition.
Lagi Krepim at Heaven
For the nails rod hide
We spend on the weight of brides
Dims of hot stumps spit.
Snashchuch of semietary dum
Mahem in the offshore.
Who do without mercy
Sleeps the river in the pants of the dooms.
And bodies are severe to the ice,
Ears north will be wrapped.
Mount Mount Pisim Mzdam,
For a member of the soul, Ile Tesh.
Nogwice on the spokes.
Forty of Motokov and Den
Only in the breath is clear.
Only in the thrill of Surdin
Cobrob Lun, Brushy Praspist,
Will move to the cast of the Radine,
Cleash taking Pashnya.
Strengthening the princes,
The eyes of tupim smelled.
Retired, enjoy, goat
Drummer is not for us.
Heap of his twigs, dreams of Lych,
Huts flexible, holes from the shouldn fork,
Steppe gravit, sleep on the mel
Who did not count ourselves, Skonaven.
We sing for more days
Pinned for the apron of the sun,
Farmers Zanyra about the day
River grenade in the interposition.
Lagi Krepim at Heaven
For the nails rod hide
We spend on the weight of brides
Dims of hot stumps spit.
Snashchuch of semietary dum
Mahem in the offshore.
Who do without mercy
Sleeps the river in the pants of the dooms.
And bodies are severe to the ice,
Ears north will be wrapped.
Mount Mount Pisim Mzdam,
For a member of the soul, Ile Tesh.