Ne strelyay v vorobev,
ne strelyay v golubey.
Ne strelyay prosto tak
iz rogatki svoey.
Ey, malyish, ne strelyay
i ne hvastay drugim,
chto bez promaha besh
po mishenyam zhivyim.
Tyi vse tiryi izlazil
narod udivlyal,
kak otlichnyiy strelok
prizyi poluchal.
Bil s ulyibkoy ne tselyas,
navskidku i vlet,
a krugom govorili:
"Vot parnyu vezet."
Ne strelyay!
Ne strelya-a-y!
Ne strelya-a-a-a-a-a-y!
Ne strelya-a-a-a-a-a-y!
Ne strelyay!
I sluchilos odnazhdyi
o chem tak mechtal.
On v goryaschuyu tochku
planetyi popal.
A kogda nakonets-to
vernulsya domoy,
On svoy starenkiy tir
obhodil storonoy.
I kogda kto-nibud
vspominal o voyne,
On topil svoyu sovest
v tyazhelom vine.
Pered nim kak zhivoy
tot parnishka stoyal,
tot kotoryiy ego ob
odnom umolyal:
Ne strelyay!
Ne strelya-a-y!
Ne strelya-a-a-a-a-a-y!
Ne strelya-a-a-a-a-a-y!
Ne strelyay! |
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