43 lines
827 B
Plaintext
43 lines
827 B
Plaintext
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convicts
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The sun goes down over the steppe,
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Away gilded feather,
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Convicts resonant circuit
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Vzmetayut dust.
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Chorus:
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Ding-bong, ding-bong -
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Ringing the chains.
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Ding-bong, ding-bong -
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Way Siberian distant.
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Ding-bong, ding-bong -
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I heard here and there:
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our comrade
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Lead to prison.
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They go with shaved heads,
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Stepping forward hard;
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Sullen frown,
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At the heart of thought has laid down.
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Go with them long shadows
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Two nags cart driven,
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Lazily bending the knees,
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Guards next to go.
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"That, my friends, zatyanemte song?
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Forget dashing trouble!
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Already, we see such adversity
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Write to us at the race! "
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And led, dragged ...
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Sing, bursting, they
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About broad expanse of the Volga,
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About the gift of the past few days.
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Sing about availability steppe
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About the wild will sing ...
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Day pales all Bole and chain
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Road sweeping yes sweep.
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