Singer: Flame

And it seemed to me that we would write on this sheet the story of our love.

On the far station will come down
A whiff of honey,
Living water to drink from the crane,
There all mine and we
And we were born here,
And cornflowers, and I, and poplar.

On the far station will come down
The grass on the belt,
With the former alone
Wander in the fields, nothing
Nothing to worry about
By cornflower blue silence.

Aty-Baty, were soldiers with the song on parade
Maybe a hundred, maybe even two hundred years ago.
Left, right, grenadiers, shako above,
In short, the situation is quite old.
Stood the young ladies at the roadsides,
Them to the soldiers liked very much.
And what century do not live
Not going anywhere love.

Such a snowfall, such a snowfall
Have not remember the local places.
And the snow did not know, and fell,
And the snow didn't and fell
The winter was beautiful, lovely and clean.
The snow swirls, flies, flies,
And blowing a club,
Winter sweeps sweeps
All that was before you.