| English Version by Evgenij Bonver
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STARINNAJA SOLDATSKAJA PESNJA | THE OLD SOLDIERS' SONG |
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Otšumeli pesni našego polka, | There’s no more a sound of our battle song, |
otzveneli zvonkie kopyta. | Nor a ring of hoofs of our horses, |
Puljami probito dnišće kotelka, | Bullets made the holes the mess-kit along, |
markitantka junaja ubita. | The young sulteress’s, too, midst our losses. |
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Nas ostalos’ malo : my da naša boľ. | We are left not many – we and our sore – |
Nas nemnogo, i vragov nemnogo. | Few our solders and few ones of foes, |
Živy my pokuda, frontovaja goľ, | We’re alive till now – baggers of the war, |
a pogibnem – rajskaja doroga. | Killed, we’ll go by the Eden’s roads. |
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Ruku na zatvore, golova v toske, | Our hands lay on gun’s locks, in a pine – our heads, |
a duša uže vzletela vrode. | And our souls as if fled to heavens, |
Dlja čego my pišem krov’ju na peske ? | Why to write the farewell with our blood on sands? |
Naši pis’ma ne nužny prirode. | Nature has not needs in our letters. |
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Spite sebe, bratcy, - vse pridet opjať : | Sleep forever, brothers, - all will come again: |
novye rodjatsja komandiry, | Will be born the new set of commanders, |
novye soldaty budut polučať | And the new young solders – with their own pain – |
večnye kazennye kvartiry. | Will receive official apartments. |
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Spite sebe, bratcy,- vse načnetsja vnov’, | Sleep forever brothers, – all will come again, |
vse dolžno v prirode povtoriťsja : | All will be repeated as the recent: |
i slova, i puli, i ljubov’, i krov’… | Love and words and bullets, blood and deathly pain… |
vremeni ne budet pomiriťsja. | But a time to make a truce, sufficient. |
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