Why do birches in Russia make such a noise?
Why do their white trunks look like so understanding me?
They stand by the road the wind blows.
And in grief let drop their leaves.
I wander the road, I enjoy with open space,
This may be all that I grasp in my life.
Why do the leaves so sadly float?
Do they caress my soul under the shirt?
And my heart is burning with passion again,
Now and again without an answer.
There's a leaf falls on my shoulder from the birches,
Just like me, it has left the branches.
Let us sit down before I Leave you, my darling.
I'll be back. Don't be sad, I'd rather you didn't.
The old granny will wave me goodbye
And close the fence door behind me.
Why do birches in Russia make such a noise?
Why does the accordion sound so pleasant?
Fingers will easily fly over the keys,
And the last one, oh, it stucks with no sound.
And my heart is burning with passion again,
Now and again without an answer.
There's a leaf falls on my shoulder from the birches,
Just like me, it has left the branches.