Текст песни Александр Матюхин - М. Лермонтов. Люблю отчизну я

I love the fatherland, but a strange love!
Will not win her my reason.
Neither fame, bought with blood,
Neither full confidence proud rest,
Neither the dark antiquity cherished legends
Do not stir me gratifying dreams.
But I love - for what, I do not know myself -
Her cold steppes of silence
Her boundless forests quiver,
Flooding her like seas;
Roads in the villages by love to ride in the cart
And, piercing gaze slow night shadow
Meet around, sighing about accommodation,
Trembling lights sad villages.
I like to smoke spalёnnoy stubble
In the steppe nochuyuschy train
And on the hill amid the yellow cornfields
Chet whitened birch.
With joy, unknown to many,
I see a full barn,
Hut, covered with straw,
With carved shuttered window;
And in celebration, dewy evening,
Watch until midnight ready
On the dance with stamping and whistling
Under the voices of drunken men.