Curly, curly curly boy.
Waving curlies to the wind.
That days I loved you boy..
Nowadays l can not forget.
You shifted cap to nape for show.
You strolled the day or dashing evening.,
From under cap...the curles are gaily waving.
Ah! Yes, Are waving, waving to the wind.
Will come the spring, will be the summer.
In garden trees will wildly bloom.
And me, the "poor - poor, dashing nipper.
Cuffs chain my tiny palms and feet.
Eh! Cuffs chane my tiny palms and feet..
But , I Sibiria, Sibiria not afraid.
Sibiria is, Yes! The Russian Earth!
Curly, curly curly boy...
Waving curlies to the wind.
Eh! Waving, waving curly rings.
....Waving curly to the wind.