Hear - sled race, hear - sled race.
Well with the favorite in the field to get lost.
Breeze cheerful timid and shy,
The plain bare rolling bell.
Oh you, sleigh, sleigh! You are my buckskin horse!
Somewhere in the meadow maple dancing drunk.
We are thereto podedem, We ask - what is?
And will dance together under three Talianki.
3 October 1925