On Volga-mother, river-breadwinner There are ships with goods, strugs1 and shallops And it didnít overstrain and is not tiered. The burden is not heavy - ships are not foreign Swiming on the ship down Volga, I pass thresholds I look right: Riverside is flat. There reed moves And across breaks Right riverside is flat Left riverside is high-pitched Volga heard songs harder then "Dubinushka" All water is beaten with bullets of enemies And water was with our blood It was like red foam near riversides Long time to fresh water Cryed High-pitched riversides, And flat riversides Cryed. It is trampled With acute horseshoes. But now hard wounds are slicked with waves. What is happened, old citys With antique walls and kremlins on hills? Fairy-tale heroes woke up And with big crowd, Are up from the ground. Moving with big hands Ships try, Pull barges from the Caspian Pull and overstrain, Pull and dont look back. And for many miles There are high-pitched And flat riversides
1 Type of ship.
© Natasha ?. Translation, 2016