And the irons said:
“We are not enemies to Fedora!»
7
Long, kissed for a long time
And she caressed them,
Watered, washed.
She rinsed them.
“I won't, I won't
I offend the dishes.
Буду, I will cook
And love and respect!»
Laughing pots,
Samovar winked:
"Well, Fedor, so be it,
We are glad to forgive you!»
Flew,
They rang
Yes to Fedora right in the oven!
They began to fry, steel oven,-
Будут, Fedora will have pancakes and pies!
A broom, and the broom - cheerful -
Заплясала, played, zamela,
Not a speck of dust left at Fedora.
