Текст песни Коловорот - 08 - По Горам Карпатским

According to the Carpathian mountains blizzard winds,
Severe frosts in winter pop. (2)

Damn Teuton comes to us,
In our power, to the cross of gold. (2)

And my darling black-black-browed
With the Germans fighting for their faith. (2)

Would the Germans to our Cossacks
To serve the throne of their language would have gone. (2)

And our Cossacks - glorious Grunt,
To serve the throne of their language did not. (2)

Sparkle tubes, pipes - drums,
I opened the door, and went infidels. (2)

Boil the battle, the battle is merciless,
Hot blood flowed like a river. (2)

Kazak God asks tearfully pleads,
To our heads to the mound does not add up. (2)

On this mound funny birds
Have fun playing for their faith! (2)