Текст песни И птицы вернутся - Поля России

Golden dome of white stone churches -
You bowed to the ground before the crude.
Sing to me, Russian nightingale of his country saint,
Soul stale my heating.

I birch distance run away from the bustle
And the solution in the heavenly depths.
Let no one dream come true, God still pray,
I'm about to become an everlasting you

 And the birds return to blue, from the far from far away
 By the green fields of Russia, and curly yasnookoy.
 They will bring her happiness on the wings of his mighty,
 Fade over her bad weather and storm clouds.
 Fade on it and bad weather clouds

I will not grieve over the plight,
Only knees in Incline icons,
I can not hold a belated moan,
Before this unearthly beauty.

Oh, my soul, my soul, all in abscesses and ash,
Do not be ashamed to brush away a tear from the cheek,
You see a cloud in the water and the river birch,
For their sake, we live on the earth