31 lines
938 B
Plaintext
31 lines
938 B
Plaintext
Road
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The rays of the sun paints the steel blade,
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And I look tirelessly in the carriage window.
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Forests, plains Russian, hills bushes yes,
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Platform of wood, iron bridges ...
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Chorus:
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Favorite, green, friend, wide,
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My land you, Motherland, Privolnoe habitation!
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Oh, how much I ezzheno, oh, how I passed,
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Oh, how much I have ever heard - and everything around my!
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The brick factory - tall chimney,
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The whitewashed hut, the threshing in the field ...
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And yet the heart is expensive, and there is a mile and a half,
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Village or city, that was a stranger to you!
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Chorus.
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Already the dew of the glasses already see the moon,
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And I'm chained to the car window ...
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It is time to highlights by night lights,
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And I look at the twilight and quietly say:
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Chorus:
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Favorite, green, friend, wide,
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My land you, Motherland, Privolnoe habitation!
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Oh, how much I ezzheno, oh, how I passed,
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Oh, how much I have ever heard - and everything is now my 1949! |