/0/3499/coverbig.jpg?v=ed5cdd60451c5fcb14fe585984faa767)
"Rida, rida, ranka!
The horse's name is Blanka.
Little rider, dear and sweet,
Now no spurs are on your feet;
When you've grown and won them,
Childhood's bliss is done then.
"Rida, rida, ranka!
The horse's name is Blanka.
Little one with eyes so blue,
A kingly crown will come to you,
A crown so bright and splendid!
T