From afar, hello to you, Kirghizes
At Irtysh's bonfires, gilded hues,
Where, among the dancing spears still breezes
Your old melody, in dance you lose
Melancholy hearts, and fall asleep.
Everyone his weeping sips like brandy.
And the camel's hump, he smiles so deep
With his creases, wisely understanding
All the music of your yellow fever.
When my life, a lantern that flickers —
Far, to you, I bend my song forever,
Open seven ears — hear deeper, quicker.