Little birch so lonely was standing 
In the field a curly one was standing 
Lonely lonely was standing 
Lonely lonely was standing 

No one can cut up birch s branches 
No one can cut up its curly branches 
Lonely lonely it s standing 
Lonely lonely it s standing 

I ll go into forest for a walk 
I ll cut up branches from the stalk 
Only three from the stalk 
Only three from the stalk 
I will make from them three whistles 
And go home through blooming thistles 
And go home with the music 
Of my whistles and go home 
With the music of my whistles 
Yeah yeah yeah
 
Little birch so lonely was standing 
In the field a curly one was standing 
Lonely lonely was standing 
Lonely lonely was standing
 
No one can cut up birch s branches 
No one can cut up its curly branches 
Lonely lonely it s standing 
Lonely lonely it s standing 
Yeah yeah yeah 
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh 
Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh 
Uh-uh uh-uh-uh