Текст песни ВЛАДИМИР СКУНЦЕВ - Не для меня

Spring will not come for me
Don will pour out for me
And the heart will beat trembling
And the delight of the senses is not for me.

Gardens do not bloom for me
In the valley the grove blooms
There the nightingale meets spring
He won't sing for me

The streams are not murmuring for me
Flowing diamond streams
There is a maiden with black eyebrows,
It is not growing for me.

They're not forging a horse for me
And they braid the ribbon in the mane
They forge him, but he doesn't know
It is not forged for me

My friends won't sing for me
And the whole Cossack land
And on a horse for the first time son
Another will plant, but not me

Easter will not come for me
All relatives will gather at the table
"Christ is risen!" - will pour from the mouth
Easter day is not for me

Flowers bloom not for me
The rose will dissolve the fragrant color
You pick a flower and it will wither
This kind of life is not for me

And for me a piece of lead
He cries into a white body
And bitter tears will flow
This kind of life, brother, awaits me

Spring will not come for me
Don will pour out for me
And the heart will beat trembling
And the delight of the senses is not for me.