It is Dev'ja mountain. Once she was a girl. She had a lover, called Nightingale. She has felt that he has changed his feelings to her... But she did not know the reason of change. And each night she could not sleep. Each night she listened carefully to whisper of mountains and a surf of waves... They sang the songs, but there was no answer in them. Each night she looked into his face - endeavored to solve, find the answer, the reason of change, but it was impenetrable...

So proceeded long... And once at night when she looked into his face, on lips of the Nightingale had run a smile... He has whispered a name in dream... The Another's name, not local, not Volga. And she understood everything. That was foreigner, the woman seized in extraction.

Her heart was hammered - knocking, overflowed by jealousy, and she has not sustained. Not remembering itself, she has taken and jostled lovely to Volga... Soon it became a pity to her of the Nightingale. And she began to cry and call, dueing plaintively... And so up to the most morning dawn called and cried.

And at dawn she has rushed herself to Volga after him... Since then... On a dawn, once a year. Only this night also it is audible, as cries, dueing, on Dev'ja mountain the girl... - my lovely, the road, the friend loved by last love - life and destruction mine, as well as pleasure mine with yours are unseparable. I shall pour over you my green hair, I shall rain kisses blue-blue eyes, I shall whisper, caressing, a fairy tale sunrises … about one never constant, never-dying love …