Текст песни Марина Осипова - Ворожея

Through the field I treat a gray bird to you, my dear,
With a nodule godgey herbs and healing potions.
To give you a song about how they are sobbing,
Speaking of unfortunate love of the tongue of trees.

I will buy you with silk eyes, lone wrists, brushes,
So as not to see me nor touch the skin.
and from my eyes, the colors of old fallen leaves
Splash warm bitter silver plated tears.

Walking words for me turned into a song,
The goddes of herbs lost their strength,
Silk and Luck flew into the sky like a petrel,
Because I will not make evil I am, my dear.

I'm afraid to make you hurt and pincenly.
Therefore I let you go, but by post - take
Willow branch with them, so that under the full big moon
She turned into a bright face in your memory.