34 lines
611 B
Plaintext
34 lines
611 B
Plaintext
Marsh young fishermen
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Sea fathers and grandfathers,
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Go fishing for a long time.
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We are on their way, followed,
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We go out into the open.
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Chorus:
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The sea, the sea, the sea,
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High wave.
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You are our edge, from time immemorial fishing,
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Native land.
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We are simple people, working,
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And our law is simple,
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Catch fish day and night,
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And summer and winter.
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Chorus.
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The sea does not make a noise grimly,
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Let's go through a hundred storms,
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Anyway, we fish holds,
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Fill to the brim.
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Chorus.
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And when we get back to the house,
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After passing the last barrage,
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Meet our relatives, friends,
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Our Murmansk dock.
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Pripev.1960 |