I go to a calotte, light monk,
Steppe path to the monasteries;
Dry purse of hvorostinok
I hang over the shoulders to the curls.
I want to measure your ends,
native Russ, I'm in the dew
And believe in happiness neighbor
On vzboronennoy band.
I go. The grass is ringing my staff,
In the face waving shawl dawn;
Sgrebaya hay decimated,
Sing me a song mowers.
Looking for ring lychnyh pryasel,
Only one thought, I DREAMS:
Happy, who decorated his life
Difficulty of life on earth.
With a smile of joyful happiness
I go to the other shore,
Having tasted ethereal Communion,
Praying at the stacks and stacks.