The road turned to the side,
Then on the field three turns.
Go forward, throwing his head,
Go and blow on the clouds...

The barn is crooked, her knees shaking.
Why I climbed in such Tyumen?
Such untrodden wasteland,
Such far Anadyrs?

On Monday the devils sing,
I feel sick again.
Sleep and pray, eat or sleep,
But there will be no evil.