A, you thought - I am too,
What can you forget me,
And I throw myself, pray rыdaya.
Under the hooves of bay horse.
Or will ask for traditional healers
In nagovornoy water counterfoil
And I'll send you a terrible gift -
My treasured scented handkerchief.
Whether it is cursed. No table, or look
Wretched souls do not touch,
But I promise you angelic garden,
The miraculous icon swear
And nights of our ardent child -
I have for you will never come back.