| RUSSIAN ROAD
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| On the weeping earth without feeling boots
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| Our bloodless detachment leaves the enemies
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| Eating on the go sorrel leaf
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| Spending the night in a gully under a viburnum bush
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| We can't rest - go run, run,
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| And our supposedly friends sat down behind a hillock
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| And they watch how they beat us without taking their eyes off
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| And only long roads are completely for us
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| Dry your tears, rest a little, I'm a Russian road
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| Move away, and I will cover you with mud and water
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| We are up to our ears in mud, in water up to our eyes
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| After some time, the enemies caught up with us again
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| And they hit even harder, they're about to decide
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| But severe frosts rush to our rescue
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| Wait, dry your burning tears, we are Russian frosts
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| Let's freeze, notice with longing, beckoning Moscow
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| Nature is at war, we are like a mother,
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| But there is a time to bury, and there is a time to advance
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| And soon we showed up in enemy towns
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| And they began to destroy everything in response, smashed to smithereens
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| Torn to pieces, ground into trash
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| And, finishing off, they explained to the groaning enemies:
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| Remember the cryptic tactic
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| When we retreat, it is we who move forward!
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| Together with the cold and the forests, ahead of Susanin
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| It’s just that the Russian Road was bequeathed to us from God
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| Russian Road, Russian Road, Russian Road... |