Текст песни Дядя Го - Мым

You were born in the steppe on the creaking cart,
A pair of birds over you silent then.
You shouted - maybe this cry heard the Greeks,
And in the sands wake up water.
You shouted - you were against this beginning,
But you did not hear my mother and father.
To be born in a shirt, still little -
It is necessary to stand under the thorns of the crown.

Long grew not under the white father's shirt
You took eight prickly hens on the road.
But the road was no more than the fell,
And hedgehogs turned into mice.
And then the heads offended by God
Your anthem was completed and executed execution,
But your beasts of the dear East went,
And they took over them.