Олег Погудин - Там в саду при долине громко пел соловей
текст песни

There in the garden at the valley
Loudly sang a nightingale.
And I, boy, in a foreign land
Forgotten from people.

Forgun, taken up
From young, young years.
I remained an orphan
I have no happiness, I have no share.

Here is the cold and hunger
He rinseed me
And I, boy, is still young
It survived all this.

Here I will kill and die,
They will bury me.
And no one will know
Where is my grave.

And no one will know
And no one will come.
Only in early spring
The nightingale will pass.

Sprinkles and signs
And again he will fly away.
And my grave with the edge
It costs lonely.