Текст песни Ф. И. Тютчев - От жизни той, что бушевала здесь...

From the life of the one that raged here
From the blood of the one that the river here flowed,
What survived what came to us?
Two-three Kurgan, visible to fit ...

Yes, two or three oak grew up on them,
Drawing and wide and boldly.
They bang, noise, - and there is no case,
Whose ash, whose memory is rooting their roots.

Nature know does not know about was
She is alien to our ghostly years,
And in front of her we are vaguely aware
Ourselves are only a dream of nature.

Alternately all their children,
What happening their feat is useless,
She equally welcomes his
All-consuming and peacemaking abyss.

August 17, 1871.

Reads I. Smoktunovsky