Guest
He sang a heartfelt song to the accordion! Inheritance From great-grandfathers from time immemorial We have left a legacy Among friends and strangers It is our mother's caress. About him they sing tales-dreams to me spring thawed patches And the noise of the September forest thickets And in the field there is a wounded oak. He will be reminded of him with a scream Me stork over the trees And that mossy old tyn, What lay between the villages. About him they sing tales-dreams to me spring thawed patches And the noise of the September forest thickets And in the field there is a wounded oak. And then the nerdy lambs Bleating call in the pasture, And a flock of crows noisy hubbub Among the graves in the cemetery. Many thoughts have been lived with him, With him dreams - a wide river ... It's called inheritance My native side. Street musicians often go outside to show their talent, perform a world hit, or pla
