| When frost cracks over Ladoga,
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| The blizzard sings about the expanses of snow,
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| That is heard in that harsh song -
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| Buzzing, buzzing one and a half motors.
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| The blizzard is purging, the vultures are bombing,
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| Fascist shells make holes in the ice,
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| But do not close the blockade ring to the enemy
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| Cars go with bread to Leningrad,
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| Cars with bread are going to Leningrad.
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| Through a hundred deaths then one and a half rushed,
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| A hundred times the sky fell on them,
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| But the word "bread" was equal to the word "life",
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| And if life means victory.
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| And the city believed in the rumble of cannonades,
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| That the whole country lives with his anxiety.
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| And therefore the ice road
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| Cars go with bread to Leningrad,
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| Cars with bread are going to Leningrad.
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| Flashes of war broke out in the sky,
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| Where there were battles - the fields lie without edge.
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| And the bread ripens, and there is no price for it,
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| And gray-haired Ladoga rolls waves.
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| Peaceful years fly over her,
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| Centuries will pass, but people will hear
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| As through a blizzard frost and thunder of guns
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| Cars go with bread to Leningrad,
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| Cars with bread are going to Leningrad. |