My furious head in the mountains.
The evening is always falling on the border.
Is it because of the unfortunate winter
The rain or love?
As we cry,
Our mountains will grow green. You'll see.
As we cry,
We'll hold the night. You'll see.
My excitement ended in the early summer.
The fight is always on my forehead.
Is it because of the untimely ambition,
The spring, or love?
As we cry,
The steppes will grow green. You'll see.
As we cry,
We'll hold the night. You'll see.