The homes are small in the town of Kostroma,
There's a braid of aged streets and a light above the river.
The homes are small in the town of Kostroma,
There's a braid of aged streets.
There's a young lonely girl in town of Kostroma,
Who's become like a sister to me.
If I'm sad, if I'm alone on the night train,
I'll think of her and smile; I'll wonder what she's doing.
Kostroma, you take care of that girl,
Don't break the kind heart of a child.
Kostroma, you take care of that child's dreams,
And mother Volga, let your waves sing her a lullaby.