Текст песни Тарас Григорович Шевченко - Гоголю

GOGOL

According to the word, the swarm flies,
One presses the heart, the other tears,
And the third is crying softly
In the heart, perhaps, God does not see.
Whom shall I show her,
And who is that language
Greetings, guess
Big word?
Everyone was deaf - they bowed
In shackles ... indifferent ...
You laugh and I cry
Great my friend.
And what will come of that cry?
Bogilova, brother ...
They won't bury in Ukraine
Free guns.
The son's father will not kill
Your baby,
For honor, glory, for brotherhood,
For the will of Ukraine.
It will not kill - it erupts
Yes, and will sell the difference
Moskalev. That would be, you see,
The widow's mourning
To the throne - to the motherland
And dumb fees.
Yes, brother. And we will
Laugh and cry.