| The songs of our regiment were noisy,
|
| Ringing hooves rang out.
|
| Bullets pierced the bottom of the pot,
|
| The young marketer was killed.
|
| Bullets pierced the bottom of the pot,
|
| The young marketer was killed.
|
| There are few of us left - we are our pain.
|
| There are few of us and few enemies.
|
| We are still alive, front-line goal,
|
| And we will perish - a heavenly road.
|
| We are still alive, front-line goal,
|
| And we will perish - a heavenly road.
|
| Hands on the shutter, head in anguish,
|
| And the soul has already taken off like.
|
| Why do we write with blood on the sand?
|
| Our letters are not needed by nature.
|
| Why do we write with blood on the sand?
|
| Our letters are not needed by nature.
|
| At the grave of the fraternal sad posts -
|
| Eternal apartments in the woods.
|
| They don't hurt now, and their hearts are pure,
|
| And the eyes are wide open like a child.
|
| They don't hurt now, and their hearts are pure,
|
| And the eyes are wide open like a child.
|
| Sleep to yourself, brothers, everything will come again.
|
| New commanders will be born.
|
| New soldiers will receive
|
| Eternal government apartments.
|
| New soldiers will receive
|
| Eternal government apartments.
|
| Sleep to yourself, brothers, everything will start again,
|
| Everything must be repeated in nature -
|
| And words, and bullets, and love, and blood...
|
| There will be no time to reconcile.
|
| And words, and bullets, and love, and blood...
|
| There will be no time to reconcile.
|
| old sutler imitation of Bulat Okudzhva
|
| Limerick Non-Limerick
|
| marching songs of our regiment
|
| now undeservedly forgotten.
|
| ... bullets pierced the bottom of the pot,
|
| the young scribbler was killed...
|
| (Old soldier song © Bulat Okudzhava)
|
| Where the buckshot whistles, where the sabers groan -
|
| My love is always missing!
|
| And I'm afraid one day it will disappear completely -
|
| Even loud hooves will not save.
|
| And I'm afraid one day it won't come to me -
|
| Because he will be killed ...
|
| If only once I stayed to guard the camp -
|
| He says that there is little honor in this,
|
| That in battle you can only get glory! ..
|
| I'm tired of being afraid for him...
|
| Chest in crosses and wounds, nowhere to put "yat"!
|
| Why do I need this glory?
|
| I know that I am brave, I know that I am a hero -
|
| They love not for this, you know!
|
| But in a dashing attack, my brave warrior -
|
| You seem to be forgetting about me...
|
| And in hot battle, my dear hero,
|
| You forget about everything in the world...
|
| There are few of you left, less than half a regiment,
|
| The uniforms are covered in red blood!
|
| But the enemies are defeated, the war is over,
|
| And your commanders are happy...
|
| Medals are waiting for you, orders are waiting,
|
| Commanders are waiting for ranks and ranks...
|
| Your last fight ended in victory,
|
| Silence rings in the white world.
|
| The one who is alive will return to his camping house,
|
| But he won't meet me there...
|
| You stayed alive and came home -
|
| But you didn't meet me there!
|
| The enemy attacked the camp - apparently, he went around,
|
| Who knew that this could happen...
|
| The entire convoy was looted, no one left,
|
| Only our tent is still smoking...
|
| Who was killed, who was wounded, who was captured,
|
| The ashes are still smoking...
|
| It's a pity there will be no more songs by the fire,
|
| The thirst for glory is instantly forgotten!
|
| A bullet pierced the bottom of the pot,
|
| The young sutler was killed...
|
| You will never cook porridge in it,
|
| And your loved one was killed... |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Старинная солдатская песня , by - Булат Окуджава. Song from the album Российские барды.Часть 1, in the genre Русская авторская песня