Текст песни 18 М.Фрадкин - Течёт Волга

From afar long
The flow of the Volga River,
Flow river Volga -
The end and the edges are not.
Among ripe breads,
Among the snow white
My Volga flows
And I seventeen years old.

She said: "It happens, son ...
Perhaps you get tired of roads.
When you come home at the end of the way,
His palms in the Volga opund. "

From afar long
The flow of the Volga River,
Flow river Volga -
The end and the edges are not.
Among ripe breads,
Among the snow white
My Volga flows
And for me thirty years.

That first look and the first splash of the oars -
Everything was, only the river took.
I am not sad about that spring was
Instead of her love with me.

From afar long
The flow of the Volga River,
Flow river Volga -
The end and the edges are not.
Among ripe breads,
Among the snow white
I look in you, Volga,
Seventh decid years.

Here is my pier, and here my friends -
Everything, without which it is impossible to live in the world.
With distant polishes, in star silence
Another boy sings me:

- from afar for a long time
The flow of the Volga River,
Flow river Volga -
The end and the edges are not.
Among ripe breads,
Among the snow white
My Volga flows
And I seventeen years old.

1962.