17 lines
435 B
Plaintext
17 lines
435 B
Plaintext
my Zauralye
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Here, everything is transparent and the blue distance.
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It does not cease ringing bird Gry.
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Blooms, blossoms Trans-Urals,
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Our native, native Soviet land!
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Look at the blue water Tobol
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Buildings loud forests.
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Sons we are sons we kosmomola,
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We are in the work being accomplished miracles!
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We love to sing, we love and work.
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We have been given an enviable fate.
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Okay, okay, we Wheat,
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As the crown of the Soviet coat of arms! |