I have not been in the Donbass


I have not been in the Donbass,
Drawn to his native land,
There, where until now remained in the reserve
Miner my youth.

It remained unchanged,
Although far from me.
There certainly lives a girl Galya
In working his town.
Back in town lives.

Gal desperately beautiful,
I notice it a mile away.
Experienced guys staring fearfully
On the proud beauty.

though I have lived a lot since then,
The Soul of the true beauty.
In another love for what looks like
Eyes on it Galya.
It is similar to Galia.

And finally, I have in the Donbass,
Here's a little white house it ...
The gray-haired hostess on a clean terrace
Quietly washes linen.

I stand on the sidelines in silence,
Soul dies in the chest.
Forgive me, Galina, Galina,
I do not know why, but I'm sorry.
I do not know why, but I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for the cruel memory
About your old pigtails,
For the fact that men are the years
Younger than his contemporaries.

I'm sorry for those moonlit nights,
For what is not in this land
I searched and found a very similar
On my proud youth
On long your youth.