Текст песни Сергей Есенин - Не вернусь я в отчий дом.

I will not return to the fold,
Always wandering wanderer.
About gone over the pond
Let the hemp pines.

Let the rough meadows
They sing nettle about me, -
Splashes midnight arc
The bell is talkative.

The moon is high,
Even caps do not throw.
The mystery is not given to the song,
Where to live and where to go.

But on the slope of our years
In the paternal home lead road.
Deaf hearse will carry
Semi-corpus, half skeleton.

After all, no wonder for a long time
There is a saying in the people:
Even the dog in the master yard
Izhahat always comes.

I turn to the paternal house -
He lived and did not live a poor wanderer ...
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
In the blue evening over the pond
Hemp tears.