birch dreams


The land of snow and clouds swan,
Land birch sunsets,
With sadness bright, silent, staring at me
Russian blue eyes.

Chorus:

My land, I am the son of thy birches.
I am Russian land from the enemy saved,
I gave everything to gold in the groves
I will never fall silent nightingales.
My land, I am the son of thy birches.
White birch trees from storms I spared,
To always dreamed of my homeland
Birch dreams.

I was a soldier on the charred earth
Glowed smoky sunsets.
Dry cracked overworked roads
As the hands of my mother.

Chorus.

When go to the edge, where there are no roads,
I myself will ever Russia.
ROSNO nights in your trunks of birch trees
Jet will be my blood.

Pripev.1978