As in the steppe, steppe burnt


As in the steppe, steppe burnt grew Oak.
He first started up green, little sprout
Under the hot rays boldly he stood,
Deep into the land he grew roots, gaining strength ...

Chorus:
I like,
But no one will know about it.
I know -
Our happiness grows, grows.
Our feelings are strong as oaks steppe.
I like
And the soul blossom!

Mighty oak, oak, curly rustle in spring
We'll go with you to the oaks strip of forest
Forest will see in full force in the middle of the steppes
This we raised in her youth

Pripev.1951