There was an escape to the dash - impudent, stupid, daytime, -
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Vologda - from the feet and - forward head.
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And two jumped in, sniffing to the beat on the run,
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In full view of the convoy, waist-deep in snow.
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The system was laid in exemplary order,
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And "Friendship" howled - an old saw,
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And they overshadowed with a leaden banner
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There are three trunks from the recovered towers.
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Everyone lay flat, their noses stuck in the snow,
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And behind the two of us are demoniac dogs.
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Nine grams are hot, how cramped you are in the trunks!
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We squirmed on flies, as if on stakes.
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We - to run to the shore, to the goal, -
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But above - from the towers - everything is predetermined:
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There, at the shooters, we twitched in sight -
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It's just hilarious, how funny.
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I wish I could see with whom I went on a journey,
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With whom did you dare to die, with whom did you venture to risk!
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Seen somewhere, as if I woke up a little,
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He croaked, "What's your name? |
And what article?
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But it's too late: his bullets crossed out -
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Cross - in the back of the head, belt, two shoulders, -
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And I ran and thought: will I run? -
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And he didn't even notice in a rush.
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I - to him, an eccentric: Why, they say, lagged behind?
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Well, he is on his side and spread his brains.
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It's gone! |
- the quilted jacket is already dry on me:
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The three-ruler strikes dashingly - just like in a war!
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Like breasts, I held on to stones:
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When dogs are close, don't run!
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Dogs sprinkled the earth with tongues -
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And dispersed, licking his brains.
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I also got up, the white light of the bitch, -
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And I look - godfathers are waiting for me.
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They kicked the corpse: “Die, cattle! |
There is no use for him:
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Half a ruble for the capture, and nothing for the death."
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And we walked in single file in front of the brigade,
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Then - for the watch, brushing off the snow:
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They are back to the zone for a reward,
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And I - for a new term for the escape.
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At first I was rude, and then I stopped.
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A whole platoon beat me - I got tired twice.
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In vain they scare with that light, both lights with oak:
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They crash there - I'm on this one, they crash here - I'm on that one.
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I hid my pride under my underwear -
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I saw how proud people lick their heels, -
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I went to lick the wounds in the isolation ward, -
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I didn’t lick it - and here they are, scars.
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We should - along the river, he was also not weak,
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So that they don’t get away with it, and dogs don’t get out of their paws! ..
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Here is the end of the tale. |
The beast ran to the catcher,
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Demolished - as cut off - the catcher to the fugitive half a face.
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... Everything is taken into the pipes, the taps are turned off, -
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At night they only howl and whine,
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What do you need? |
It is necessary to rub salt on the wounds:
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To better remember - let them hurt!
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To better remember - let them hurt!
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To better remember - let them hurt! |