Текст песни Хорея - На горе огонь

Run, horse, expensive
Steppe, wide,
 
So that the Tatars do not get caught,
They didn't lift the seats,
 
The seat of gold
Of you, the raven's horse.

When you run under your parents' yard,
Knock on the stockade.

When you come under the gate,
Knock on the raft.

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  "Oh my horse is a crow,
And where is my young son? "

  "Don't cry, mother, don't worry,
But your son is married already:

And you got yourself a young lady -
  In a clear field dugout ...