Paul Polotsk - Я иду долиной
текст песни

I walk through the valley, my cap on the back of my head
A dark hand in a kid glove
The pink steppes shine in the distance
The quiet river turns wide and blue

I'm a carefree guy, I need nothing
If only I could listen to songs, sing along with my heart
If only the light coolness would flow
If only my young stature wouldn't bend

I'll go beyond the road, I'll go under the slopes
How many smartly dressed men and women are there
The rakes whisper something, the scythes whistle something
Hey, poet, listen, are you weak or not?

On earth, it's sweeter to float to the sky
As you love the valleys, so would you love work
Were you a villager or a peasant?
Swing your scythe, show your ardor

Ah, a pen is not a rake, ah, a scythe is not a pen
But a scythe writes lines anywhere
Under the spring sun, under a spring cloud
They are read People of all ages

To hell with me, I'm taking off my English suit
So give me my scythe, I'll show you
Am I not your own, am I not close to you?
Do I not cherish the memory of the village?

I don't care about potholes, I don't care about hummocks.
It's good with a scythe in the morning mist
To trace lines of grass along the valleys
So that a horse and a ram can read them

In these lines, there's a song, in these lines, a word
That's why I'm glad in my thoughts about no one
That every cow can read them
Paying wages with warm milk