Blue and merry land.
My honor is sold for a song.
Wind from the sea, blow quieter -
Do you hear, the nightingale is calling the rose?
Do you hear the roses bending -
The song will return to the heart.
Wind from the sea, blow quieter -
Do you hear, the nightingale is calling the rose?
You - a child, there's no argument about it,
And am I not a poet?
Wind from the sea, blow quieter -
Do you hear, the nightingale is calling the rose?
Dear Gelia, forgive me.
There can be many roses on the way,
Many roses bend,
But only one can smile with the heart.
Let's now together. You and I.
For such dear lands.
Wind from the sea, blow quieter -
Do you hear, the nightingale is calling the rose?
Blue and merry land.
Let my whole life be sold for a song,
But for Gelia in branches shade
The nightingale is embracing the rose.