Текст песни Гурт Села Клюшниківка - Вилітала Галка З Глибокого Балку

A pebble from a green beam flew,
And a friend flew out of the green meadow.
A pebble on a tall pine was sitting,
And on a tall pine tree, on a gorgeous branch.
Don't bother, bough, because I'm so bitter,
But they did not run on water: the grief to live without birth.
Do not run on water: the mountain to live without kind.
And only I am a kind - two brethren of a generation. Come, come, brethren, on Sunday morning
And drink, bros, vodka in a glass.
For some reason, brothers, vodka is not drunk,
Oh my heart, like an hour, is twisting.