Текст песни Женя Петрушенко - Чистово

Chistovo

The stars sang in the dry steppe,
The crickets sing, drilling out the soul,
And the wind sniffs like a baby
Over the countryside.

In the morning fog will creep out from the swamps,
Dawn will comb the sleepy wheatgrass
And I changed the garden to the city
And I have no regrets.

An evil crow barks in the village,
Pecking at the blind stars like millet
Colored childhood faded mine -
Simply and easily.

I grew up and became quite a poet,
Recklessness was replaced by greedy languor.
I was born here ... God, how old
I haven't been home.