32 lines
691 B
Plaintext
32 lines
691 B
Plaintext
Flying planes to Rostov
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In the vast expanse of the Don
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Glide cloud sails.
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Us from childhood as Rodina,
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Roads our sweet city of Rostov.
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Rostov - not a name, not a word.
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He - our hearts and year.
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Flying planes to Rostov,
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To Rostov rushing train.
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I remember the heart forever,
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How good the faces of friends,
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Spacious avenues of the river,
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Lakes and rumble areas.
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And where he is now worked,
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Come back to Rostov always.
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Flying planes to Rostov,
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To Rostov rushing train.
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By the will of fate, on the orders
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I also no time left
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My city in lights bright-eyed
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Familiar Rostov Station.
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But again and again, and again
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To return to him ever.
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Flying planes to Rostov,
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To Rostov rushing train. 1960 |