Текст песни Василий Бородин - По светло-серой мгле небес

on light gray millet heaven
in the folk song owl
Flies, one hundred years flies
Over the rustling of forests

And if you meet her
then death do not wait
And just ahead one longing
And timid rains

so cry over Nekrasov
in the living rooms Barchuki
And suddenly the flags are red
Similar to the river

and puddle on a fire
deserted so burning
As with a dying companion
Comrade says:

We will build wide
Big Cubes Home
there will be windows clear
there will be a light mind

Won - on the blinding blue heaven
in the folk song of the day
Flies, one hundred years flies
over the sea