Текст песни Ф. Тютчев - Весенняя гроза

I love the storm in early May,
When the spring , the first thunder ,
as if to frolic and play,
Rumbling in the blue sky .

Peals of thunder , young ,
That rain sprinkled dust flies
There was a pearl rain ,
And the sun gilds the thread .

From the mountain stream runs nimble ,
In the woods not molknet bird uproar,
And the din and noise of upland forest -
All echoes fun thunder .

You say : windy Hebe ,
Feeding Zevesova eagle
Gromokipyaschy cup from the sky ,
Laughing , he spilled on the ground .