Lyrics Kvitka Cisyk - Пісня про рушник

My mother is clean, you have not slept for nights
You took me to the field of the village
I walked far away in the distance to me
I towel is embroidered for happiness

I'll take that towel, I'll spread it like a fate
In that there are rustling herbs, chirping grooms
And on that rifle, bloom everyone familiar with pain
And childhood and separation and true love.

Let it bloom on a fluffy path
And green meadows, and nocturnal groves
And your unhappy, motherly affectionate smile
And your good eyes are good dark eyes