Павел Морозов - Мир в капле дождя - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Music of Horan Bregovich

Rain ... myriads of drops born of a shapeless chaotic original mass, subject to a certain guide, ancient as the world itself.

Rain ... In these streams of water, casting off from rampant heaven, each drop sparkles with its individuality, originality, reflecting a rich spectrum of iridescent rays.

Their flight is a whole life ... their fate is to break into small spray on the asphalt, on the roofs and walls of the houses, on umbrellas, hats and raincoats of passers -by ... But some fall into the rivers and merge with powerful stormy waters, dissolve in them, they dissolve, gaining immortality and power ...

Rain ... The most ordinary and ordinary phenomenon on Earth. Drops knock on the glass, their monotonous rhythm is reflected in the heart, raising from the depths of the soul unconscious longing and nostalgia for something irrevocably lost ...

Rain ... Deep experience from unity with a certain mysterious mystery of the endless cycle of billions, involved in it by the Divine idea ... or the cruel, meaningless game of the Mother of Nature ...

If you think about how simple a rain drop completely reflects the immutability of the laws of existence, you can discover the elixir of immortality or the secret of eternal happiness ...

Short life ... Life in flight ... Life is unconsciously devoted to the wise laws of the universe ... If people could live without losing connection with the pristine spirit, filled with awareness of this connection, enjoy an open pure soul, enjoy life in all its manifestations and experience Gratitude to all the existing, heaven, his neighbor, just for finding a form, for the opportunity to live ...

But people are not drops ... Drops do not have the opportunity to think, accept, accept with heart and soul, and then suffer, suffer, realizing the tragedy and meaninglessness of their existence, tormenting themselves, finding pleasure in such torment, absorbing and living by them, already Not seeing the light, not feeling the finest connections, in captivity of the sticky web of illusions ...

Occasionally, the sun looks through the clouds, turning the world into a triumph of enthusiastic colors, changing shades and halftones. May these invaluable moments be blessed even for causing a sincere desire to exclaim: how you want to live!

And the rain is pouring and pouring ... endlessly ...