Текст песни Александр Левин - Народная песня

folk song

Lipa rustles Lithuania,
Maple swinging estonet.
Over my head
black crows tend to branch.

In the White Poles
Luli-Luli stood in a row
Artful and Slovaks
Slovene say.

I will ascend above the Montenegrin,
I will seek grass-Moravia,
brew yourself a tincture,
unthreatening poison.

According pokosovomu field
I run of Bosniaks,
and will to the will of the word,
and tumble down the jamb.

And stained crimson
sundress sewn mother -
either because with Romantcev
chudyu to measure Herman?

Or is it derevlyane,
Fire accepting death,
shine like fire in the fog? -
Zhmud and frightened look.

Or enter ostriyaki
Belarus to the hilt?
But pocheshutsya Slovaks,
and chuhnut, and go to bed.

And I'm still the Corn poison
and seat myself on a stump,
and nations like grass,
breaker is in the language of ...

The nations roar like grass before the Lord ...
Oh, the noise of the peoples of many ...

8 May - 10 December 1998