Текст песни Павло Табаков - Шумить пшениця як дунай

Wheat is rustling like the Danube,
The road is white in the field crying,
And you do not hide from me
His dreamy face.

I used to be sad there,
When saying goodbye to our field
But the sorrow blew away like smoke,
At least we never dreamed.

Dew on the ear,
Somewhere the bird is tired of giggling,
Beloved eyes are heaven,
Hair is golden wheat.

In the field its silvery May
Poplar shows the stars,
Wheat is rustling like the Danube,
Love is my edge of the field.