Ақ қайыңдай белестегі, Сенің бейнең елестеді, Шуақ шашып төзімге, Сүймегендер сағынбайды, Шын сүйген жан бағынбайды, қызба сезімге .
On a white birch hill Imagine your image, Sunny patience, Those who do not love will not miss, The one who truly loves does not obey, Feeling of fever.
I crave your burning eyes, Even sadness covers my eyelids. The swans have returned from the black currant in the fall, Hide your message that they were not told.
On a white birch hill Imagine your image, Sunny patience, Those who do not love will not miss, The one who truly loves does not obey, feeling of fever.