Текст песни Бергтора 2012 - Тропы Севера - 01 Софья

I was in the land of pristine grass,
My mother used to sing me a song, and spoiled brother,
It does not remain in the hands of my former strength -
My legs buckled drifts and gloom.
Take you, frost, dying colors,
And the beauty of my caress his soothe.
Lived so much I nearly years,
And the desire to mine - it's eternal rest.

My dear far away, in the richest of the villages,
As near Kiev-town since ancient times.
His heart enmeshed long braid
And the eyes of fathomless intelligence captivated.
I will be the coffin hut forester
I lie down beside the stove, the oven will not drown,
Take me soon villain-longing.
Only to the sisters but others continued to live ..

Pray you for me in the spring sun,
Yes, better feed the bay horse!
I fall asleep ...