Текст песни Пензенский русский народный хор - Милая роща

PRETTY GROVE
Here it is, my dear grove!
Wind me,
Branches of birch whips,
Dream evokes the forest.
How many trunks whitewashed,
How many of them rose up!
All this is familiar from childhood,
With a heart for ever grown together.
Again if you are beardless
Standing next to a girl,
Instead of coral beads on
Bunches of rowan you give.
Though her laughter ringing
In the forest there was a ... more
Only in the former girls
There is already a daughter-in-law.
My land, unique in the world,
Where I breathe so freely.
Field moved apart wider
By grove favorite hurry.
It would be desirable white birches
Bowed low,
To block the path
The one that leads downhill.