Текст песни Сергей Трофимов - Казачья

Over fields, over valleys, over gray hills
Loose black braids night-midnight,
She conjured by the constellations and the winds,
Chasing the evil spell away

And demons flew from a sick soul
And, tearing off the veils and covers,
Someone's lips spoke in the stillness of the night
The most cherished words:

Chorus:
"Oh, but don't ruin me!
Oh, just love me!
Oh, yes, my sweet betrothed
In spite of all misfortunes, troubles! "

A circle revolved in the heavens of the universe,
Sleepy month hitting the earthly pier
And in the gossip of weary caress hands
The mystery of all beginnings arose ...

Chorus

Loose black braids night-midnight,
And as long as she was given strength,
Even death could not be overcome
Two breaths merged into one ...

Chorus (modified using accompanying voices)

Oh, but don't ruin me!
Oh, just love me!
Oh, yes, my sweet betrothed
In spite of all misfortunes, troubles!

Oh, don't ruin ...