Текст песни Алла Пугачева - Прима донна

Like a wounded bird
With golden plumage,
On the dais, Thou shalt go,
And I see you happy.

Chorus:
Sing, sing for me only, Diva.
Sing a wounded soul, Diva.
Dying every time
Seisyan in the face of fate, Diva,
Do not get used to you, Diva,
To play the terrible and prostoy-
Be a star.

And his tired eyes,
Crowned tear,
You'll see you in the hall
And if you see a dream,
But the dream faded.

Chorus:
Here it is, the last battle, Diva.
Fight with his fate, Diva.
Laugh in the face of fate, Diva.
Do not get used to you, Diva,
To play the terrible and funny
To be always the same.

Give strength to the sky,
To drain the cup to the dregs.
Where you had not been,
She had already poured the wine.
She shouted: "Bravo"
For whimsical farce.
I raise one's glass
For schasstlivy final!
Bravo, Diva!
Bravo!!!