The winners fell into a dream
|
And they put up guards.
|
But even the sentinels want to sleep, and the rest is tryn-grass!
|
And then we, the marauders, enter the conquered city,
|
And we dictate the terms
|
And we lay claim!
|
Hear the march of the marauders!
|
(Boots creak on gravel!)
|
Praise us marauders
|
And cheerful your army!
|
Glory! |
Glory! |
Glory to us!
|
The surviving inhabitants hurry to hide in holes like mice.
|
Girls dress up as old women
|
And they are waiting for the blessed darkness.
|
But they won't deceive us
|
Because we are marauders
|
And while the winners are sleeping, we are the masters in the city!
|
Hear the march of the marauders!..
|
Tear doors off their hinges,
|
Pull carpets and curtains
|
Everything will come in handy - and money, and booze, and grub!
|
Ah, what fun we looters are walking,
|
Oh, what weighty words we come up with!
|
Hear the march of the marauders!..
|
Sweet sleep winners.
|
They dream of golden mountains,
|
They dream of the banner of Victory, pockmarked with torn holes.
|
And we have no time to sleep,
|
Because we are marauders.
|
But crazy with fear,
|
We are applauded by the world!
|
Hear the march of the marauders!..
|
And this is not the main thing.
|
You didn't see the main thing.
|
There will be morning and the sun in festive clouds.
|
The bugler will blow the wake-up call.
|
The winners will shake off the dream
|
And they will see that they do not have the banner of Victory,
|
and in our hands!
|
Listen to the march... March...
|
And there's nothing to argue about.
|
Empty fun - disputes.
|
When passions subside and swearing smoke disperses,
|
Historians will figure out which of us are marauders,
|
And we will tell them!
|
And we will enlighten them!
|
Listen to the march of the winners!
|
Orchestras are playing marches over the abyss of the parade ground.
|
Girls waving flowers.
|
The building is unbreakable and straight.
|
And it turned out - everything is in order!
|
And so, everything is as it should -
|
You marauders, a bullet!
|
And girls and marches - to us!
|
Listen to the march of the winners!
|
(The creak of boots on gravel).
|
Praise us, the winners,
|
And our great army!
|
Glory! |
Glory! |
Glory to us!.. |