Oh, Ural, my Ural,
huge grey aksakal,
with your head in clouds so high-
where falcons fly, my Ural!
And my song’s about you,
and my love is true!
In the moonlit gold
my Ural is clad;
of the silver morn’
your array has pad’.
On your sleeves, Ural,
forests are so dark,
at your feet, Ural,
steppe’s as gay as a lark.
Flower-rainbow high
in your meadows glow,
nightingales’ songs fly,
and like graces flow.
Birds sing in their nests
greeting rising sun,
and they have a rest
watching sinking sun.
Oh, Ural, my Ural,
grey batyr-aksakal,
can I find the words
to praise you, my Ural?
Play, oh my quray,
reach the depth of hearts,
let my song fly high
in eternal parts!
My Ural
© Copyright: Дмитрий Красюков, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116052405187
Свидетельство о публикации №116052405187
Рецензии