Zalivochka

Hey, zalivochka, my sweetheart has a pretty slender nose.

I love the pretty melody of my zalivochka.

I love a zalivochka for its merry tune,

After I die, I want it to be played at my funeral.

Once my beloved didn’t love me back, but she does now,

She’d come to my bed and wake me up.

Hey, zalivochka, zalivochka, zaliv, zaliv,

He used to chase her, now she chases him.

It’s nice to mow grass when it’s green,

It’s nice to love a girl when she’s jolly.

Don’t wear beads, girls; beads are not where beauty lies,

Lads don’t love you for your beads, but for your merry eyes.

Ring on, ring on, my merry voice!

It’s not far now—just over the field, across the lake, and through the woods.

As I walk to see my beloved, tears are rolling down my pale face,

The heart of a young fellow is full of misery.

But when my beloved looks and smiles at me, it’s as if the sun has risen,

When she presses herself gently against my chest, my misery will be gone