Текст песни Макаров Сергей - А ХЛЕБА НЕ УБРАНЫ НА ПОЛЯХ

And the bread is removed in the fields
Sergey Makarov S.
And the bread is not taken away in the fields,
Spread rye along the road,
Even if the rush trot, riding,
At once bay entangle his feet.

       And it does not get out of the shackles,
       What nature has created for freedom,
       Not to take away from Rye blood horses
       For my long journey ...

Spikes rye, and you - throw it
And fly forward into the unknown!
But horses are not beg her,
Because there is no better place ...

        Braking they are here all my life,
        I'm waiting for the blizzard leaped,
        Song dopoyu only native land
        And all the notes there to finish the ...

            08/23/1986 Stendhal