Текст песни гр. Пятилетка - Цыганочка

Grief rolls a wheel
on the native side,
disturb before bed
yes to sprinkle blood.
You are amnesty and pestilence,
you - to the "edrene" mother, -
Orthodox or a thief -
all one - on the porch!

Life, she's a trifle
Do not divide into three
Eh, not a bottle, not a glass, - not to hum.

What is a tavern and what is a barrack -
all one - with security.
Clench your fist harder
my filthy life.
Given from birth, -
So why be sad
that she is only one
and always ends.

Our life is not stolen
but by fate!
In an open field - two pillars, on top - a crossbar!

Breathe willfully
wounded gyrfalcon
it doesn't matter what kind of power
if hung up in the evening.
Crescents, crosses,
Asian mugs ...
Hey Russia, where are you?
But don't shout to me!

Now the night is over
And the day doesn't begin.
Don't even go to church to repent of everything!

So, sing at the halt
about the love of a gypsy.
Know - on her heart - not a single wound!