When I was very young, my father was very pleased to put me on his knees, saying in a conspiratorial tone: "Well done - against the sheep. And against the young man? .." And I, solemn with ecstasy, solemnly said: The sheep itself. "
This was extremely happy for my parents. At the same time I saw a picture that had nothing to do with the true meaning of the proverb.
And I saw an endless foggy field - the field of the upcoming battle. To the left was a Russian army - on horses, in pointed helmets, as in the film "Alexander Nevsky". On the right to the horizon, the sheep huddled darkly. From the human army the young man, a hero-hero like Mikula Selyaninovich, separated and advanced. To meet him from the flock of sheep, their leader, a powerful and ferocious animal, advanced: Sheep himself. They slowly approached.
The Duel of the Man and the Sheep Himself determined the outcome of the whole further battle. The picture was formidable and solemn.
Only many years later, I suddenly discovered the common reading of this winged phrase. And I, I must say, was greatly disappointed by her poor, edifying wisdom.
Of course, as a child, I was not one such strange. Two of my comrades at different times confessed to me that the first line of the Russian folk song Shred the reeds, the trees bent causing in their minds the image of a certain mouse-noise. Which, apparently, made a noise so that the trees bent.
Variety song with words It will be long for Karelia to dream, dreams will be dreamed of since then, the pointed lance of the eyelash above the blue eyes of the lakes was read by my friend Maxim Kapitanovsky as follows: "It will be long for Karelia to dream, will dream from this time: spiky eyelashes above the blue eyes Lakes ".
Max in his childhood was afraid of this song. Indeed, if someone eats lashes, and somehow spiky - you will agree, it is, in general, creepy, and even the intimate vocals of Maria Parkhomenko do not save the situation.
There are many such stories. And it is a great pity that over the years our ear loses the ability to distinguish these magical things in a stream of commonplace platitudes. Although there are, of course, exceptions. Once we sat at the table with Alexander Gradsky and drank champagne, I do not remember why. Suddenly Gradsky brought a glass of wine to his ear, his eyes clouded. Then Gradsky said: "Well, Makar, now we'll check whether you're a poet or not a poet." What does this sound like? " With that, he brought the hissing champagne to my ear. The sound really reminded something familiar. "Maybe the noise of the stadium?" - I assumed uncertainly. "No fucking you are not a poet !," the composer was upset. "The water in the tank so murmurs!"