Текст песни Николай Рубцов - По вечерам

From the bridge the road goes uphill.
And on the mountain - what sadness ! -
Lie the ruins of the cathedral,
Like sleeping bygone Russia.

Erstwhile Russia! Not in those years there
Our day , as if the chest,
He was nourished way of freedom,
Always flitting ahead!

What kind of life otlikovala ,
Otgorevala , she moved !
And yet I hear a train pass ,
As blowing here than Russia lived .

Everything is so much fun and imperiously
Here, guys get on the stirrups ,
In the evening, warm and clear ,
As in those old days ...