Текст песни Валентин Куба - Казачья

Raven bird, I would soar with you
I don’t have wings
The turtle-dove cut off my wings
God knows it's not mine to know (2)

To know fate is such a fate
I will look for luck in battle
And if the fatal bullet will knock down
Bullet is a fool, I will forgive her (1)

It is not proper for a Cossack to cry,
Tokmo you can grieve
Only the rain will drip quietly
Shedding tears quietly (2)

And it will spill, sprout into grass
My dear steppe, my mother
I will rest in my heart and soul
I will give a drink to my favorite horse (1)

Horse - what is he, he is a friend of the heart
Real and dear
But I am already a sinner in my soul
What can you do with me1

I am a Cossack, fascinated
Yes, I insist on the steppe
And by mom and dad I'm hard
Eh, there were Cossacks too

Do not grieve dear relatives
Will get it - we'll meet again
It's a pity, only there is no turtledove in the house
It's a pity that there is no one to hug

The sun bent over the hillock
Dismounted in the evening dawn
Behind Aksai from a high slope
The order of the Cossacks was removed to the steppe

Spread the raven bird with its wings
Take away my sadness
Circling, circling under the clouds
And the steppe distance calls me