I left, I left, from my dear places.
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From the graveyard, where the milestone is a lopsided cross,
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From the hut on the hill, where in the corner on the wall
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The Mother of God is still looking after the departed me.
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The Mother of God is still looking after the departed me.
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Well, and I, forgetting on the other side,
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Crawling into my corner, I sob again in my sleep.
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Again, the soul will tremble with a wing of a crane,
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All I dream about is "Kalina Krasnaya" by Shukshin.
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All I dream about is "Kalina Krasnaya" by Shukshin.
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Quietly sit down to supper, mother and father and relatives.
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They all want to believe, everything is fine with me
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And a good wife, and comfort in the apartment.
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On someone else's side, they don't spit in my soul.
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On someone else's side, they don't spit in my soul.
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Well, and I, forgetting on the other side,
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Crawling into my corner, I sob again in my sleep.
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Again, the soul will tremble with a wing of a crane,
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All I dream about is "Kalina Krasnaya" by Shukshin.
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All I dream about is "Kalina Krasnaya" by Shukshin.
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I left, I left, from my dear places.
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From the graveyard, where the milestone is a lopsided cross,
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Where sadness spreads like an uncompressed strip in the field.
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This is my discreet land, this is Mother Russia.
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Oh, you are my discreet land, my homeland is Russia. |