Текст песни Павло Зібров - Шахтерские жены

Terrikons, like mountain peaks,
Domes take out dome,
The princes leave the mine in black,
And the tired go home.

Somewhere there are beauties overseas,
But his own, his own - better than all,
Blossoms with a miner's bulb,
A gentle smile on her face.

Prispriv:
Miner's wives, raspberry jingle,
The memory of the departed husbands will respond,
But children grow up, and moms turn gray,
Already waiting for his sons.

If on heart it is unsuitable,
Mom will quietly say: "We must wait ..."
How much to you, beloved, it is necessary,
Time to alarm multiply.

But Donbass does not like songs that are sad,
And when there is no road back,
Help your braids light brown,
To rise to us on a white light.

Prispriv