Gorianka

In it the tunes of the wondrous mountains,
What is desired and far away.
Passion of restrained pressure,
The rivers are torrential streams.

In her is the majesty of mountains and weeping,
Where the high peaks are tenderness.
A black-eyed look is hot -
The bottom is not knowing the abyss.

Shadow of silky hair
A horse is more elegant than a mane.
He will not show his tears,
In the weasel is generous, but stern.

From the flower, under the sky meadow
In the fragrance of drowning.
In her freedom eternal spirit,
That obedience does not know.