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River mist was rising all around. |: Young Katiusha went strolling by the hour On the steep banks, o'er the rocky ground. :| By the river's bank she sang a love song Of her hero in a distant land, |: Of the one she'd dearly loved for so long, Holding tight his letters in her hand. :| |
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The apple trees are blooming, and Katjusha is walking out to the river [to fetch two buckets of water, I am afraid]. Merrily and brightly she is singing: Her sweetheart has sent her a letter from the front were he is defending their home. Fresh song, on the wings of the grey eagle of the steppe fly to her fiance and bring him Katjusha´s song. Bring him her love and her thanks and her hope for a peaceful future together. |
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