Текст песни Світлана Ільницька - Летить галка через балку

To fly a pebble through a beam,
Flying, cool ...
Young girl
He walks the grove, cries.

"Doesn't let me have a mother
In the morning to the well,
Neither rye nor flax,
Not at evening.

Let me, my mother,
In hazel nuts,
I will not find happiness and destiny
I'm a little off myself! "

"I will not let my child go,
In hazel nuts,
Because they already fed me
Boyish ridicule! "

Late last night,
How my mother fell asleep
Came out to listen to the nightingale,
I didn't hear the language.

She came out, stood over the river
And I look into the water ...
Hard to have, hard to have!
Why did you give it a go?

She painted a white face
And black eyebrows,
But she didn't let me, my mother,
No happiness, no fate.

It would be for you, my mother,
Don't give those eyebrows,
It would be better for you, my mother,
Happiness and fate to give!