| The thrushes are silent, the dawn is not yet close,
|
| The slanting moon burns over the hills.
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| The forests are empty, there are no decent foxes in them,
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| And I wander along the dark clearing alone...
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| I go out to the big road
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| I trade with my mind, so, little by little.
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| Only beavers, disappearing into the fog,
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| Caught in lies and deceit.
|
| Well, what's a fox to do
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| In this gloomy wild forest?
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| And for the fact that not everyone distinguishes deceit
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| I am not responsible!
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| The streams are dressed in ice dresses,
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| Hedgehogs and gophers forgot themselves in a stupid dream,
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| The bear and the wolf are dear to me like brothers,
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| But I, as a woman, dream of something else...
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| Clean air, fishing, hunting,
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| Only I'm missing something
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| And the beavers, who have not seen life,
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| They accuse me of feminism... Hmm...
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| And where else to go to the fox,
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| When there is no one to start a family with?
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| Well, the fact that not everyone is indifferent to me
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| I do not admit my guilt!
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| And I would rush to a big distant city
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| And there to be smart, tirelessly,
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| I would satisfy my spiritual hunger
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| And I would find a use for all talents,
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| I would become the main prima there,
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| I would easily, ho-ho, outwit everyone,
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| And in the forest, all the same, in the evenings,
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| Maeta yes debate with beavers… Fu…
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| That's all that's left for the fox
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| From her naive prospects,
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| I can't be a free bird in full glory,
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| And to circle the red-headed fool in the forest wheel,
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| Here is such a sad motive!
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| But the lyrics are lyrics, and meanwhile the trail led the predators to the forester's lodge. |
| Wolf
|
| alerted. |
| The light is on inside. |
| What if the hunters are resting? |
| I would not like
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| instead of a gala dinner, the wolf himself becomes prey. |
| In the gatehouse, no matter how
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| no matter what happened, the desired domestic animals cooled off. |
| Goose and ram pointed
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| order. |
| And the pig was laying out poor food on the table. |
| All sorts of tops there, which
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| rhenya, bark. |
| The fox even squealed at such impudence. |
| It's good that the goose is in
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| this moment began to tell friends his goose story. |
| And since the voice
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| it was very loud, no one heard this fox's cry. |