Текст песни Іво Бобул - Старе Джерело

Paint blue flower day,
The color dreamy eyes.
Zasvichu star over white world
That does not heat, fire and burns.
Prostelyu of silk grass, thread of them,
High on his father's lead threshold.
The word gentle butt to song
And tears to abstaining because he could not.

Chorus:
That's one my age -
Like sunflowers father's house,
Where cuckoo forges
And with prychilku duhmyanytsya mint.
It's up to my age -
The rocks of life will not be wiped away
For old spring whose waters fail not and hits |
And the flows to thirsty heart. | (2)

Dial dew in sup port palm
To feel the freshness of spring,
Red vyblysky pm
I will wear on his shoulders.
Three winds of carefulness in wings
High flying, returns to us
Mother earth, give his forces
What stem rises in zhytah.

Chorus. (2)