Текст песни Владимир Мартынов - Поспешите, пастушата

Hurry, shepherds!
No visions, no witches
Black smoke rises in the hut,
Everything is calm and silent.
In the village, in a distant cune
The chain thrashes and knocks.
The cattle hums, the shepherd plays,
The sun rises red.
And, like the heat, the dawn plays
He gives you a pipe.