Time for weddings
Everything was ripe on the fat plough.
The rainy season was over.
The kind of ripening fields
It's always nicer and prettier for us.
The old sunflower is running out.
Like a grandfather, his head drooped.
It loses its blooming appearance.
She loses her curls in the weather.
Longer nights, shorter days.
The whole thing is going to fall.
The farmer only and waiting.
He will want to remove his crop.
The accordion plays merrily.
Lead the girls in a circle.
The people are preparing for Strada
And soon the wedding will begin to play.
Not for nothing all summer back bent.
All bright day and until dawn.
And there are songs and bonfires
In the stacks until the morning fell asleep.
Everything is kinder and simpler in the village.
They walk together, drink together.
Their friendship is no worse to lose.
Now they're like after an execution.
Who is on top, all of them do not understand.
How to lose your homeland.
Houses, crosses, and these fields.
Свидетельство о публикации №120010302307