Lyric

Potatoes are boiling, herring is being cleaned

Cyrillic will pour oil into the lamp

The tables will be covered with important linens

Grandma is preparing the upper room for the feast

Crispy cabbage will be decorated with onions

Russian liqueur, Ukrainian pervak

Rye heads are cut into slices

Alas, we are not apostles - we do not disdain sin

In pickled apples - a Christmas goose

Over a glass, a glass - the soul is blissful

Singing a generous song, the caroler sweeps the snow

To the song of the heart, Christ is born

Let's sing Grandfather's song - about Stenka Razin

The Cossack girl Nastenka will pick it up

In the sky in the frost - the star of the Savior

Execute and have mercy on us, unquenchable!

The tobacco smoke hangs like an axe

The bass of Yegorych, a quick ditty

Young doves - behind the plank door

To gaze shamelessly at the God's race

The sought-after lips will merge truly

The canvases are crumpled silently, furiously

The swan swims, the wave sways

You lie like a foundling, drunk with happiness

The snow will melt naked from the bathhouse

Melania the herbalist will straighten their heads

May God grant you time to accept your little blood

Will grind up a strong linen thread

(Ao.oha).aa(Oo.oao.oa,ahh)

You lie like a foundling, drunk with happiness

The snow will melt naked from the bathhouse

Melania the herbalist will straighten their heads

May God grant you time to accept your little blood

Will grind up a strong linen thread

(Ao.oha).aa(Oo.oao.oa,ahh)