Song

Far above the field, high through the air,

In search of prey a powerful vulture flew.

By the edge of the river in the fresh grass

A young white-winged dove sat;

O hide yourself, little dove, in the green forest!

Or the greedy bird will soon devour you!

A seagull high over the Volga flies,

And spying prey, circles and shakes itself.

O keep yourself hidden in the water, little fish,

That you not be discovered by the spying seagull!

If you climb to the surface, then it will descend

And make you its prey and lead you to the grave.

Ah, you green, damp earth!

Open and let my turbulent heart rest!

Blue skycloth, studded with stars,

O dry the tears from my eyes!

Help, o heaven, this poor tolerant maiden!

It breaks my heart from pain and sorrow!