Belikov, Sergey

I Dream of the Village (Снится Мне Деревня)

Though my voice has never had melodic ringing

I still had a dream to go and see the world

So one early morning towards a bustling city

I departed and I started singing city songs.

I consider myself to be from the city

Here is where my work is, here are all my friends

But often at nighttime I dream of the village

Seems my homeland doesn’t want to let me go so fast.

There, the scent of warm bread through our home is wafting

And beneath the mountain, river rushes through

And the geese, they waddle, cross the road so proudly

In the valley on a flower, bumblebee drinks dew

I consider myself to be from the city

Here is where my work is, here are all my friends

But often at nighttime I dream of the village

Seems my homeland doesn’t want to let me go so fast.

In July, the forest is an emerald wall

In winter, the prairie is a glistening white

All day I keep singing every city song

While my soul anticipates the coming of the night.

I consider myself to be from the city

Here is where my work is, here are all my friends

But often at nighttime I dream of the village

Seems my homeland doesn’t want to let me go so fast.

There, the scent of warm bread through our home is wafting

And beneath the mountain, river rushes through

And the geese, they waddle, cross the road so proudly

In the valley on a flower, bumblebee drinks dew