Текст песни Олег Сурков - Соло на домбре

Boy playing on holiday
And I, as always, is not fully sure -
This is a holiday eclipse of a white moon
Or the wedding of the trader chestnut hop?
Won two rabbis came to see
On the speech of the boy, with him
They took in umbrella and chalme
To hide from the summer heat.

Boy playing on holiday
Black curls on the shoulders fall
People from the sun hiding in the shade
Sweet fruit wine drove.
But the Assyrian pompous Shah
Together with a harem to music dances
See, in his enlightened eyes
The boy lit a whole bowl of happiness.

The boy plays on the holiday,
Shelly moves lips
He has already played in Bukhara
And no one had rushed into him there.
Thin fingers on strings run
And in the depths of his heart of the living
The wind is buzzing, catches the finishe camel,
Sleep minarets and spare waves.

But the melodies of the thread subsides
The boy gets up, bowing to the people
Everything, says I have to go
The next holiday is the next city.
The wind from the road does not assemble him,
The rain will not hug, the Mirage will not deceive
And falling asleep under singing waves
Boy in a dream bright stars playing