| How a deer roared on a taiga lake,
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| How a hoopoe screamed in a forest clearing.
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| Airplanes do not fly in my country,
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| And the Siberian expanses are not for trains!
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| A train is being served at the shattered station,
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| And, as usual, they cling to the "Stolypin",
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| And in the carriages in Russia from time immemorial, as of old,
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| There is always someone to sleep with and have a drink with!
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| The conductor is friends with beer and with a broom,
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| Yes, the stations do not let her sleep peacefully.
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| Carriers turned into peddlers,
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| They filled up all the compartments with “samobranki”.
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| And the whole country is teeming with foreigners,
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| And the cereushniks walk in black,
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| After all, all the secret factories at the stations,
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| And in the drawings of the women, the herring is wrapped.
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| The country is entertained with jokes,
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| It's just strange, something about Yeltsin isn't there.
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| “The Russian, you know, works,
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| And the miners all sit on the rails for us!”
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| And we stand in the middle of Eurasia,
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| Belyashi chew, sick stomachs.
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| Why, you, power, have jinxed us, unclean?
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| Well, why are you so insensitive to us?
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| I would have looked into the seventh better, old one,
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| Would you give us an ambulance.
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| Returns to mothers from the army,
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| Young foolish growth.
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| I stand alone in a smoky vestibule,
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| In gray color melancholy painted.
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| And on the platform, the lieutenant is chewing a hamburger -
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| Well, a cutlet, that means with bread, in our opinion!
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| How a deer roared on a taiga lake,
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| How a hoopoe screamed in a forest clearing.
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| Airplanes do not fly in my country,
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| And the Siberian expanses are not for trains! |