Текст песни Сергей Беликов - Русская душа

The mischievous wind walked across the field,
Threw road dust in my face
I wander all over the world, but in any country
I did not find something that warms the soul in a dashing hour

I did not find joy, I did not find love,
Only the crows in the sky are spinning
And the soul is sad, and the soul is in pain,
A gray-winged dove flies to his native land

Chorus:

The Russian soul needs a holiday -
A feast by the mountain, yes with a sweet night in a hut
Father's house, quiet rustle of birches,
And a song that is sad to tears

And baptized by troubles, straying in the steppe,
I will find invisible light in the darkness
To the sunny shore, by the native river
I will reach, in the end, adversity despite

Chorus.

The Russian soul needs a holiday -
A feast by the mountain, yes with a sweet night in a hut
Father's house, quiet rustle of birches,
And a song that is sad to tears

And a song that is sad to tears

And a song that is sad to tears