Up to the shore let your little boat run:
Here is some drink and here is a bun!
And Iváshechko said:
Little boat, little boat, sail to the shore:
My mother’s calling me.
The little skiff sailed up to the shore; the woman took the fish and fed her little boy, changed his shirt and sash and sent him out again to catch fish. And there he sat on the boat and sang:
Little boat, little boat, sail far away,
O’er the blue water away and away.
The little boat sailed out so far away, and Iváshechko started fishing. Soon the grandfather came to the shore and called his son:
Iváshechko, Iváshechko, my little son,