Песня о птицах [Pesnya o ptitsakh] [English translation]

This song will be sad one about the birds that were coming

The hunters were shooting at them and killing the sky birds.

The birds were hitting to the ground and dying in the time of sorrow.

The hunters shot at them for fun and for entertainment.

The birds knew and realized what does every shot mean

But in the spring they arrive again to the native forests by the fast river.

And they could not help but return to their native northern district,

And a song of woeful separation in the joyful spring, the birds sang.

They could not help but return to their native northern district,

And a song of woeful separation in the joyful spring, the birds sang.

The hunters shot at them, hitting the birds without aiming.

A song of grief and sadness in the joyful spring, the birds sang.