How not to love me this land


How not to love me this land,
Where I was given to live his life,
And the blue and the green,
And the secret trail in the rye!

I feel good in your expanse,
My love, my land.
Peasant Woman in Russian hands
Spring nursed you ...

How not to love me the arable land,
The battle with blood burned!
How not to forget me the truth of the fallen
Peasants from our village!

The land under the rain you mokla,
Through the blizzard and was revived.
Tell me, if I could do anything,
That you could love me? ..

When I fall for you,
In the misty fields of tenderness,
In your warmth I remember
The palms of my mother.

How not to love me this land! .. 1971