Along the Great Siberian Highway,
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Far, far beyond Baikal,
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From the yard from home to Akatuy-prison
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A shackle walked along the stage.
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For almost a year he was dusting along the roads:
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In cold, hunger, midday heat.
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On the way, a cry and a bayonet in verification -
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He humiliatedly tore his hat off.
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The dog soldier beat him to death, hurried to Siberia.
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Now this one herself is even alive - your husband is now a convict.
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Prison heavy share:
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On short nights there is no time for sleep.
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Oh, and deep is the turquoise river,
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Like a prison share, black.
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They drive the party into the deaf land,
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In the Akatui cursed mine.
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There they whistle with whips, there they burn in typhus,
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There is a cross in the sky, and freedom is above it.
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The drill is a red-hot “knock” and “knock”, and the sound of shackled chains.
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Have fun, guys, beat, strength, guys, do not be sorry.
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Have fun, guys, beat, strength, guys, do not be sorry.
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Trampled heavy wanderings,
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Blackened young face
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And betrothed by eternal penal servitude
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On the prison porch he lay down.
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And betrothed by eternal penal servitude
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On the prison porch he lay down.
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That is not an ocean-ocyan - the souls of Russians groan,
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By fate, they ended up in hard labor in Nerchinsk.
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That is not an ocean-ocyan - the souls of Russians groan,
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By fate, they ended up in hard labor in Nerchinsk.
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Along the Great Siberian Highway,
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Far, far beyond Baikal,
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From the yard from home to Akatuy-prison
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A shackle walked along the stage.
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From the yard from home to Akatuy-prison
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A shackle walked along the stage. |