Текст песни А. Мирзаян - В. Соснора - Смерть Бояна

Death of Boyan (molasses song)
Poems by V. Sosnora

In the sandy Chernihiv market -
what a sewage pit.
In the ditches and potholes
split forehead nothing.
In the market in the evening
on Christmas Eve they executed Boyan.
Boyan executed
appointing me an executioner.
Rushed to the market
skinny skinny spins,
snotty descendants dragging
on bony shoulders.
They upset
sleepy eyes on the block
And crying in handkerchiefs
bones of me, executioner ...
What about people? And people ... And people!
chatted about paradise.
That paradise is not for Boyan
Boyan - a pronounced hell.
Staring at the chopping block
prickly seeds ate,
wondered: there
il head will fall here ...
Then they wandered around
purring boyanov strings.
I stole from the guard
Boyan harp and ring.
And to hell with Chernihiv!
Just wound up early.
Shut up, drunk!
A song is decapitated in Russia!
Forever and ever
Boyan calmed down.
Guslars will be born
jumbled delight songs
but time for cocky songs
really come in?
On the night of execution embarrassed
sixteen regiments of Yaroslav.
They were embarrassed
but the trouble did not happen ...

1977