Текст песни Исаак Дунаевский - Урожайная

On the river, the river Kuban
During the wave of the wave of runs (oh, wave running)
golden loaves
Kuban Steppe noise.
So we decided to wonder,
Grain growers master:
To lomilisya barns
From the Kuban good.

Chorus:
Get out, get,
Yes loads, loads,
Yes paged - came the time.
Ah, our harvest, harvest,
Vintage high.

We work in the steppe
Out until dawn,
Before dawn, dusk,
To grow in our bread
Athletes-heroes.
To all the girls were
And Prigogine and nimble.
To hotter we loved
Young Cossacks.

Chorus.

Threshing all as needed -
No grain is not lost,
No, it will not disappear,
Because very friendly
And we are reliable people.
And go, go carts
In the city on the highway,
Do not remain collective
Prior to the motherland in debt.

Chorus.

We do not reward us deceive,
It will tell you all,
Will tell you all -
We raised our bread
For the sake of the honor of labor.
If this award w
It will be awarded to us,
We do not say: - No, do not! -
We will answer that need.

Chorus.