Текст песни Ю.Ключарёва - Березы

I did not occupy my place,
Fascinating the air thick.
Will not go to your bride
You are not sick.
Dragged down tears
There is no one else.
Slit me, birch!
Forest, foliage ukra!

Pay me birch
For my suffer,
So that combustible these tears
Viscous juice flowed.
So that you came to get drunk
My sweet longing, -
It is better to cut a bark than the heart
I'm tormented, my dear.

I would froze at the well,
Where is your trail
And we would have made branches to the Sun,
To absorb his light.
And in the shade would be my cool
You got the forces -
That would be me, really,
You shore and loved.