Текст песни Пангур Бан - Рябина

How not whine, do not cry and do not hunch -
We all polyazhem for winter fodder shortage,
Both leave, without waiting for a sign,
Bread our diluted streams of autumn rain ...
And rdyanye drops rowan
With a sudden covered with snow -
Last food for us - fed by pain,
The last thing holds both
The last thing is simple and true
A mask of tears from the eyes.

Tatters rests on the shoulders of my kosonkih,
Heavily they mourn, repent without waking up,
Thoughts have a clue what the words are empty,
Birds hands on your huddle, as if you were a tree -
Under the yoke of heavenly wrath,
And berries bitter loss
Caught in your fist ... Yes, you have racks
But rusty coins are not worth
Your restless vёlva,
What future is calling your own.

Lord, where is your storehouse of molasses,
Where have all the salmon, nuts and apples,
Where are all the rudiments of mind and patience,
Where they climb, il they are not planted at all -
Only pomerzlye clusters -
Rowan disclosed veins
Soca bitter blood, give strength -
And always hungry frenzy
We bitterly flavored madness
What we love ... substitutes