My rostochek is gentle, gentle,
My flower is white!
How can I be, so as not to disturb
Your delicate dream is serene?
How can I live, in a stream
Storms, passions, losses of combustible
Save your origins,
Protect from tears from burning?
So that at the appointed time
Your cry, the land,
It would be ringing,
Life is a burden,
Life is a miracle of anticipation!