Bute lead showers


Do not be sad about his son,
Wicked share cursing,
By bubbling Russia
He urges his horse.

Civil war rumbles
From dawn to dusk,
Many trails in the field,
Only one truth.

Bute lead showers,
We are predicting trouble
We are on the shoulders heaved
And war and misery.

Well, over our fate is no accident
Flaming star.
We swear to her life
Forever, forever.

And over the steppe sinister
Raven let not turning,
We're forever
We are going to live.

If over the world again burst of thunder,
The sky will flash fire,
You whisper to us only,
We will come to the rescue.