Perhaps we know the rites poorly

Chorus:
Silver weddings,
Fire extinguishing.
Silver weddings,
Sincere conversation.

Isn't it that can be prettier,
Than this edge of birch forests,
Than this, inseparable from Russia,
The custom of our grandfathers and fathers.

Chorus.

Remained in the heart external drops,
Left in the heart of the nightingale trill,
And twenty five silver april
You are surrounded like sons.

Chorus.