Maagia, loitsud: ilmale

The Sun, come out,
from your stony cellar,
from your tinsel chamber!
A keg of milk, a loaf of bread,
two spoonfuls for good measure.
[I will give you.] 

The Sun, come out,
Bring a keg of milk,
The heel of the bread,
And a bowl of flummery!

   Dear little rain, my brother,
        kas´ke, kan´ke,
   let me go home dry,
        kas´ke, kan´ke,
just as I came dry from home.
Bring the rain to Russia, 
bring the Sun to this land. 
The rain has a brother in Russia,
the drought has a sister in this land.
I don't have a beater of a dry [shirt]¹
nor a washer of a wet [shirt].
The beater of the dry has gone home,
the washer of the wet is buried.

¹ In the past, laundry was beaten smooth after washing and drying.

   Dear little rain, my brother,
      eo,
   dear little rain, my brother,
      eo,
don't get me wet! 
A shower of rain, my kin,
don't get me wet! 
A cloudburst, my cousin, 
don't get me wet, 
don't get - I'm little bird, 
a pretty little herd! 
When I, little bird, am soaked,
a swallow with a wet hair, 
I've no home to dry myself, 
no shelter to warm up.. 
My daddy didn't make me a fence, 
nor my brother rolled a log, 
Under the spruce is my home, 
my house is under an oak leaf.