Текст песни Людмила Зыкина - Баллада о спасённом хлебе

This summer, the land is not spared,
The sun was hot with no wind and rain.
Wood burning, the smoke enveloped the meadows,
And bread noisy beach.

Chorus: How are you now you without me?
Remember, I did not come out of the fire ...
No more bread nothing
He's from my heart grows.

I worked on earth day,
And birch trees swaying shadow
Suddenly field was hoisted to the sky tornado -
Bread came close to death.

Chorus.

Burned hands and eyes.
And grain, like a black tear.
I fought violently with fire,
It was the day of my last day.

Chorus.

It smells of bread and the sun and the earth,
And tears, and the wind and the storm.
What it cares and labor,
How many people it is good!