Joy – Korney Chukovsky

Happy, happy, happy
Light birch,
And on them with joy
Roses grow.

Happy, happy, happy
Dark aspen,
And on them with joy
Oranges grow.

It wasn't rain that came from the cloud
And not a city,
Then fell from the cloud
Grapes.

And the crows over the fields
Suddenly they sang like nightingales.

And streams from underground
Sweet honey flowed.

Chickens became pavas,
Bald - curly.

Even the mill - and that
She danced at the bridge.

So run after me
To green meadows,
Where over the blue river
A rainbow-arc rose.

We're on a rainbow
wska-ra-b-repent,
Let's play in the clouds
And from there down the rainbow
On the sled, on skates!

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Anna Akhmatova