Текст песни Сергей Есенин - читает А.Дубровский Синее небо, цветная дуга

Blue sky, color arc,
Quiet steppe coast runs
Smoke stretches near raspberry villages
A raven's wedding lightened a picket fence.

Again I see a familiar cliff
With red clay and twigs of willows
Dreaming of red oats over the lake,
It smells of chamomile and honey from wasps.

My land! Beloved Russia and Mordva!
With the parable of the darkness, you, as before, are alive.
Gently under the thrill of angel wings
Crosses of nameless graves are ringing.

Many of you, homeland, with your face
It burned and languished in the mines raw.
He dreams of them, strong and evil,
Bite the berries of your perseus.

Only I believe: do not survive
Who stopped loving your prison and prison ...
Eternal truth and the hubbub of forests
Pleasing the soul to the sound of shackles.

1916