| I was killed near Rzhev,
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| In the nameless swamp
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| In the fifth company, on the left,
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| On a hard hit.
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| I didn't hear the break
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| I didn't see that flash...
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| Like an abyss from a cliff -
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| Where there is no bottom or tire.
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| And all over this world
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| Until the end of his days
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| No buttonholes, no straps
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| From my tunic.
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| I am where the roots are blind
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| Looking for food in the darkness;
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| Where am I with a cloud of dust
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| Rye walks on the hill;
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| Where am I cock crow
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| At dawn on the dew;
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| where are your cars
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| The air is torn on the highway;
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| Where blade of grass to blade of grass
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| A river of grass spins, -
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| Where for the wake
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| Even mother won't come.
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| And the dead, the voiceless,
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| There is one consolation:
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| We fell for our country
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| And she is saved.
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| Our eyes have faded
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| The flame of the heart went out
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| On earth in faith
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| They don't call us.
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| We have our fighting
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| Do not wear medals.
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| You - all this, alive.
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| We have one consolation:
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| What was not in vain fought
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| We are for the Motherland.
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| Let our voice not be heard,
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| You must know him.
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| I was killed near Rzhev,
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| He is still near Moscow.
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| Somewhere, warriors, where are you,
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| Who is left alive?
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| In cities of millions
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| In the villages, at home in the family?
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| In military garrisons
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| On our own land?
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| Ah, my own or someone else's,
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| All in flowers or in snow...
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| I bequeath my life to you,
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| What can I do more?
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| I bequeath in that life
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| you happy to be
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| And motherland
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| Continue serving with faith.
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| Grieve - proudly,
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| Without bowing your head
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| Rejoicing is not boastful
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| In the hour of victory itself.
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| And keep it holy
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| Brothers, your happiness -
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| In memory of a warrior brother,
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| who died for her.
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| And keep it holy
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| Brothers, your happiness -
|
| In memory of a warrior brother,
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| who died for her. |