run, run, freedom of the child,
To the native country!
I am faithful to the voice of nature,
Be faithful to me!
Here unavailable sky vaults
Through the smoke and dust!
run, run, the nature of the child,
Plenty of room - in the fields!
fleeing… Already passed Stogniy,
Around - fields.
Across immeasurable distances
Tremors.
Running towards the sun, May,
free days…
And it took native land
their children…
and take, and oblaskala,
and hugged,
And they rocked vernal dalyah
bells…
AND, beckoning them impossible,
I betrayed again
fleeting days, days alarming,
Evil days - without time, without number…
