The poplars along the brook banks
Green leaves have bloomed
I couldn't get enough of beloved, I couldn't get enough of that beloved
Let black earths get enough of her*
Come from where the vine terraces are
She dresses patterned skirt
Get up and let us go the one I love
Before the patrols catch us
Persian girl, Chechen girl
Dress yourself in whites, and me, myself in red
Let us go up to that mountaintop
You gather the rose and me narcissus
C'mon my rose, shake your hips
We are not afraid of these and those ones
Oh, the brook whose water is so muddy
How will it all end, how can we make that a reality?
The sin of men, the sin of us men
Girls, will be asked from you