Thin rowan after Ivan Surikoff

Why do you stand there swaying, thin red rowan,
Bending your head down to the very fence bowned
Bending your head down to the very fence bowned

And across the road, beyond the wide river,
Also lonely stands a tall oak as a horary.

How could I, a rowan, get over to the oak
Then I wouldn't bend and sway,
Then I wouldn't bend and sway.

With thin branches I would press myself against it
And whisper with its foliage day and night honest

But the rowan can't get over to the oak at all
It must be that the orphan will forever sway alone,
It must be that the orphan will forever sway alone.