Текст песни Янка - Позабыт-позаброшен

Like in the garden by the valley
The nightingale sang loudly.
And I, boy, in a foreign land
Forgotten from the people.

Forgotten, Forgotten
From young, young years.
I remained an orphan -
I have no happiness in life.

Here I die, I die
They will bury me.
And no one will know
Where is my grave.

And no one will know
And no one will come.
Only in the early spring
The nightingale will sing.

Will sing and cry
And fly away again.
And no one will know
Where the orphan lies.

Like in the garden by the valley
The nightingale sang loudly.
And I, boy, in a foreign land
Forgotten from the people.