Текст песни Людмила Зыкина - Сирота

What happened to the people who answer
How cruel their hearts are sometimes
Both father and mother live in the world
And the child is called an orphan

Tiny abandoned child
How pathetic he is at this bitter hour.
As if with a reproach from the diapers
Looks at me and at all of us.

At the hour when the child screams in the crib
Not from hunger, but from longing
His mother lives quietly, sweetly.
Do not knock alarm her whiskey

If I could have said a newborn
Mother's "Stop!"
Mom do not leave me in the hospital
Without you, is this life for me?

I want to cuddle up to your chest
And warm up only with your warmth
I do not want to part with you
Take me to our homeland
I do not want to part with you
Take me to our homeland

But he is silent, knowing nothing
Smiling, his mouth curses
And his mother caresses someone else's
Wash clean tear

Well are women have these hearts
It is time to execute such mothers
In the hands of a helpless little body
Carefully held by a nurse

What happened to the people who answer
How cruel their hearts are sometimes
Both father and mother live in the world
And the child is called an orphan
And the child is called an orphan