Текст песни Владимир Асимов - На правой руке

On the right hand Gold Ring,
The heart is trembling in the chest.
Well, from my eyes hiding your face
Cute, my pain.
Or I was so nice,
What to forget was able to me, native.
Well, he did not chase, any called,
And to the crown with my friend went.

And the church has an old graveyard,
Where under the maple sleeps my mother.
I will go to her, I will ask my question:
"Mother, my blood,
Something your son
Give advice and strength to me, native.
How can I be, how can I live,
With whom to be friends who now love. "

Maple sharelets gold foliage,
On my palm my obronley tear
And talk gently with me:
"My boy, the son of his native
Evil let go of a friend
Do not measles an incorrect girlfriend,
Know, your wound will sweat
Only God is one of the judge. "

On the right hand Gold Ring,
Heart in the chest Ptahoe trembles