Митя - Г.Х. Андерсен, Домовой мелочного торговца - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

He lived, there was a gazing student, "he was in the attic, and exactly nothing had anything for the soul - and lived, there was a charted petty trader," this has occupied a whole lower floor, and the whole house belonged to him. He also had a house. Still would! Here he has been handed over porridge with oil; The petty trader has enough funds to such treat! So, the house has lived yes lived in the bench, and it is very instructive. In the evening, a student appeared from the rear doors; He needed to buy a candle and cheese; Send him was somehow, he came to the shop himself. Having received a purchase fee from him, the shopkeeper and the shopkeeper wished him a "good evening", and the shopkeeper was from such women, what could say and more than a "good evening," - she was distinguished by the gift of eloquence. The student nodded them in response, continuing to read what was printed on paper in which cheese was wrapped in him. The paper turned out to be a sheet, cut from some old book of poetic content. - I still have a lot of good! - said the shopkeeper. The book went to me from one old woman for a handful of coffee beasts. Want to give eight skills, so take all the other sheets. - Thanks! - say a student. - Give me them instead of cheese! I can do without one bread with butter! Sin would be if the whole book was inwar into the nurses! You are an excellent person, a practical person, but in poetry meaning no more than this barrel! He put it quite impolitely, especially in relation to the barrel, but the shopkeeper laughed, and the student too: he, because, so to speak, just joked. But the houses were offended: how dare to say such a thing to the homeowner himself, the seller of the best oil! Night came, the shop was locked, and everything, except for the student, went to bed. Domova entered the bedroom and took the host of the hostess, - he, after all, was not needed, While she slept. It was worth the house to attach this tongue to some subject in the shop - he now received the gift of the word and could express all his thoughts and feelings no worse than the shopping bag. And it's good that the tongue could serve only one subject of the contractions, otherwise they would just stun each other. Commusted the tongue to the barrel, in which the old newspapers dropped up, and asked her: - You really do not know what poetry is? - I know! She answered. - This is usually printed in the basement columns of the newspaper and then cut off. I believe that in me this good is more than a student, and I, because, only an insignificant barrel in comparison with the bracket itself. When the house I attached a tongue to the coffee mill, then she was silent! Then to the ride from under the oil and, finally, to the revenue. Everyone turned out to be one opinion, and with the opinion of the majority you have to be considered! - You're, a student! Said the house and quietly climbed the black stairs to the attic, where the student lived. The camork was light; The house was attached to the head to the keyhole and saw that the student sits and reads a torn book; But what light spilled from her! One bright beam, who emanating from the book, formed as it were, a barrel of a magnificent tree, which rested the vertex in the very ceiling and widely spread his branches above the student's head. The leaves of him were one fresh other, every flower is a pretty maiden head with burning blacks, or with clear blue eyes, and every fruit is a bright star. And what kind of wonderful singing and the music sounded in the camork! No, the brush-house not only never seen and did not hear anything like that, but I could not imagine! He is so froned on the tiptoe at the door, and it looked, looked until the light is not too much. The student has already extinguished the lamp and rushed into bed, and everything stood everything in the same place: the wonderful melody was still sounded in the room, lulling the student. - That's so miracles! - said the house. - Not expected! Right, I think to move to the student! "Thinking carefully, he, however, sighed:" At the student, after all, there is no cereal! And he descended - yes, descended down to the bench. And I did well, "the barrel did not beat the entire tongue of the hostess, expressing how to look at the contents of it on the one hand, and was already going to turn to figure out the case and on the other. The house broke the tongue back the hostess, but since then the whole shop - from revenue to the extras - was one opinion with a barrel and began to treat her with so much respect, so I assumed to her rich content that listening like a shopkeeper read something in the evening "Herald" about the theater or art, firmly believed that it was all taken from the barrel. But the brush-house was no longer sitting, as happened before, calmly in his place, listening to all this wisdom; Almost only in the camork, the student showed the light, the house unweightly attracted there, as if the rays of this light were anchor ropes, and he himself was an anchor. He looked into the keyhole, and it covered the same feeling as we test at the sight of the greatest picture of the excited sea per hour, when an angel of storms fly over him. And the house could not be kept from tears; He himself did not know why he cries, tears themselves sang themselves, and he himself was sweetly, and hurt. To sit with the student under the tree! But what not to be, the