Oh spring, spring, dear springwhere is your daughter? Where is panyanochka?

Somewhere in the garden she is sewing a shirt with silk and she is embroidering it with sadness.

She is embroidering it with sadness and silk and is sending it to her beloved.

"Put it on every Sunday, think of me every hour!

I sewed with silk, and with sadness, it is a pity that I fell in love with a Cossack!"

Translation by Anna Valter and Viktoriya Potikina.