Текст песни Илсоя Бэдретдинова - Алабута

On a beautiful summer day
One woman bent down to smoke.
The weeds are burning, not in a hurry, gently -
The garden needs to be cleaned.
Trash burns, and he says:
“The steppe grasses!
Come out every day, every day you shoot -
It's a mess that doesn't end there. "

People who grow up in Alabuta
In the wild fields that have been abandoned,
In the orphanage without owners,
In the pits left over from the houses.
People lived prosperous
It does not strengthen its roots in the ground.
Alabuta seems to be silent:
"I'm lonely."
Alabuta seems to be silent:
"I'm close to orphanhood."

Lived to this day
The slaves forget the past.
Saved thousands from death
Weeds are alabuta.
People who struggle unknowingly
Of grass called Alabuta
Of the sin they committed
Growing up trying to cover.

People who grow up in Alabuta
In the wild fields that have been abandoned,
In the orphanage without owners,
In the pits left over from the houses.
People lived prosperous
It does not strengthen its roots in the ground.
Alabuta seems to be silent:
"I'm lonely."
Alabuta seems to be silent:
"I'm close to orphanhood."

On a beautiful summer day
One woman bent down to smoke.
The weeds are burning, not in a hurry, gently -
The garden needs to be cleaned.