With carnival

Sunday is the day of goodbye
Seeing off the gray winter.
In every hut of kissing
A year to wait for a new Maslena.
The bells are playing
He calls everyone to matins.
Young and old know:
Tomorrow the post will come to the house.
After service in the field will come out
All with a bow the Cossacks.
To the Sun, their eyes will be raised with prayer
And they will ask in a human way:
- The sun is red, be generous
Warm the seeds in the field!
Be merciful to us, Lord:
The land is a rain of fields.
It's fun before dark
The people are treating themselves
To the star to the first to
Everyone to eat in advance.