Odessa street, old chestnuts...
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Black Sea autumn, bullets and fogs...
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Under formidable fires, in the bitter hour of the night
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We left the city, our native city ...
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The trees sadly saw us off.
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"Where are you from?" |
they whispered in the darkness.
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And with longing in our hearts we answered:
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"We are sailors from Odessa."
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Since then, we have been in battles more than once,
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We drove the captured Germans out of the villages.
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Women were walking towards us at the midnight hour,
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Our blood brothers hugged us.
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How the sons of the old woman met us,
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"Where are you from?" |
- they repeated with excitement.
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We went forward and answered quietly:
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"We are sailors from Odessa."
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For dear Odessa, for dear home,
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We are going into battle for our comrade-friends!
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Well, that the night is dark, that the circle is low -
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It's not for nothing that our enemies call us devils!
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"Where are you from?" |
they shout, “We don’t know.”
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"What is your strength - we do not understand."
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And we are at war, we answer with steel:
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"We are sailors from Odessa."
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I don't know, autumn or misty winter,
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We will return to our city, our desired city.
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But I know my city, dear old house,
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This time is coming - we will come to you!
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And the cheerful sound of the surf will meet us,
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We will knock on our native window.
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"Where are you from?" |
"We're straight from the battlefield!"
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Sailors have come to Odessa! |