Текст песни Лукоморье - Деревня

I love to listen to the mooing of heavy herds;
I love an abandoned and desolate garden
And the lindens are unshakable shadows;
The glass wave will not tremble;
You stand and listen - and your chest is intoxicated
The bliss of serene laziness ...

Here is a song drawn by a traveler ... A sad sound!
But he cried out dashingly - and only a knock is heard
The shaking wheels of his cart;
A girl comes out on a low porch -
And looks at the dawn ... and a round face
It glowed with scarlet, bright paint.

Swaying slowly, from the hillock, behind the village,
Huge carts go down in single file
With a fragrant tribute to the lush fields;
For green and thick hemp
They run, dressed in blue fog,
The steppes are wide floods.

That steppe - there is no end to it ... spread out, lies ...
A streaky breeze runs, it won't run ...
The earth is languishing, the sky is melting ...
And the woods of the long side will twitch
Crimson gold, and he murmurs slightly,
And dies down and turns blue ...

Ivan Turgenev