The Terek does going down to Plains
to leaving the mountain principalities,
through the maze of their vertices gates.
He has been safely make its way.
Already his transparent eyes are.
The rays are dancing in crystal waters.
And the Terek washed beaches dawn
with dews, what were blowed from the mountains.
His freedom do not can be touched -
Neither with the scorching summer heat,
Neither with the cold of winter time,
Neither with the fatal centuries Year.
His Inheritance of ancient wanderings
do not afflict with, the story gone
as Jealous storm will not deceive
same the Light of the flow of the Sun.
Ïîêèíóâ ãîðíûå óäåëû,
Ñêâîçü ëàáèðèíòû èõ âåðøèí,
Ñòðåìèòñÿ Òåðåê äî ðàâíèí,
Ïðîáèâ ñåáå äîðîãó ñìåëî.
Óæå ïðîçðà÷íåé åãî âçîð.
Íà âîäàõ ëó÷ õðóñòàëüíûé ïëÿøåò.
È Òåðåê îìûâàåò ïëÿæè
Ðîñîþ, óíåñåííîé ñ ãîð.
Íå òðîãàþò åãî ñâîáîäû -
Íè ðàñêàëåííûé ëåòíèé çíîé,
Íè õîëîä, çèìíåþ ïîðîé,
Íè ðîêîâûõ ñòîëåòèé ãîäû.
È íå òîìèò ïå÷àëüíûé ðîê
Óäåëà âåêîâûõ ñêèòàíèé.
Êàê Ñâåòà Ñîëíöà íå îáìàíåò
Ðåâíèâûé ãðîçîâîé ïîòîê.
