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Although I have the fate of my days on the dawn,
On the southern mountains, cut off from you,
To remember them forever, there must be a time:
How sweet song of my homeland,
I love the Caucasus.

The infant's mother years I lost.
but it seemed, in pink evening hour
That steppe repeated to me a memorable voice.
For this I love the top of the cliffs,
I love the Caucasus.

I was happy with you, mountain gorge;
Five years swept: still miss you.
There I saw a couple of the divine eye;
And my heart murmurs, vospomnya the eyes:
I love the Caucasus!..

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