Poslednee pis'mo [Последнее письмо | Гудбай, Америка] [English translation]

When all the songs quiet down,

The songs I've never heard of,

Then my last paper steamboat

Will screech in pungent air with dismay.

Goodbye, America, oh,

Where I have never been.

We're parting for good,

Pick banjo uke

And play farewell for me now!

La-la-la-lai-la-la-la-lai-la, La-la-la-lai-la-la-la-lai-la,

La-la-la-lai-la-la-la-lai-la, La-la-la-lai-la-la-la-lai-la...

Your tattered jeans grew too small,

And too tight for my liking.

We've been taught for so long time

To love your sweet and ripe forbidden fruits.

Goodbye, America, oh,

The place where I will never be.

Will I ever hear

Your song that I'll remember evermore?

Goodbye, America, oh,

The place where I will never be.

Take heed of my sad song,

Resembling mournful knell of churchyard bells.