Текст песни Георгий Колдун - Слуцкiя ткачыхi

From the native cornfields, from the native house
To the lord's court for the sake of beauty
They, the poor, are taken
Weave gold belts.

And for long times,
Girls forgetting dreams,
Its wide fabrics
They weave Persian in the image.

And behind the wall the field laughs,
The sky is shining from the window -
And thoughts are drawn inadvertently
Where the spring blooms,

Where the glitter of grain in the clear gave,
Blue cornflowers turn blue,
The waves of cold silver shine
Between the flowing mountains of the river.

Darken the edge of the serrated pine ...
And weaves, forgetting, his hand
In between the Persian specimen
Birthday flower of the Motherland.