Текст песни Александр Харчиков - Безыменное поле

based on the poem of Konstantin Simonov

Again we move out, comrade,
We played the battle again
Blood Sun shame
It comes in our back.

We didn't closed dead eyes
We will have to widow to say
What we did not have time forgot
Last accurate to give.

Not in honest soldier's graves -
They lie right in dust.
But, the dead gives the crowd,
But we have come alive!

It's not true, we will tell
Their widows and their mothers:
We threw them on the road,
There was no time to burrow.

You seem to listen to listening?
You put my hand ...
For words of my terrible bitterness
Forgive me, comrade native,

Forgive me my insult,
I have said them with grief
I know you are next to me
I put my breasts a hundred times.
I know you did not fear bullets
And the life that I gave you a mother,
Shore you with a male hope
It is more expensive to sell.

You, right, was born in the shirt,
What is still alive still
And death to you less flour
It seemed than this shame.

You can answer that the dead
Envy you yourself fate
No, I do, I tell you.
No, I do, I tell you.

No, do. Deaf nights
When we go back,
Rush from the dust, for us
Our dead mans are watching.

Soldiers of distant hikes,
Dead breasts forward
With Strem and rage hear
Full screens up.

And, to endure the cracm not in the power,
I'm fading in a terrible night
The dead rose all of Russia
Sing the dead trumpets.

Silently play their pipes,
Invisible from the legs of their traces,
With the words of a silent team
Their swarms are built in the ranks.

They don't want to stay
In the forgotten graves of their
So that enemy guns
To the east crawled through them.

In white green uniforms
Fallen under Peter,
Dead Preobrachters
Silently are built in a square.

Cry gray caps
Stretch playing a horn,
For the first time from Poltava battle
They go to the east

From under the stronghold Izmail,
Did not know the retriend
Ponuro goes last
Suvorovsky dead soldier
Ramat the drums in the Carpathians,
And pipes over the bug sing
Siberian dead companies
The walls of the Misley get up.

And on exultant shorts
Reversal through Neman and Prut
Artillery Koni.
Broken guns are taken.

You hear, comrade, you hear,
How dead follows
You hear: not just descendants,
We are ancestors for it.

Swear with to you, comrade,
What is no longer step back!
So that no longer followed us
Silent shadows of soldiers.

So that where we became today,
Hillock and small fishing fish
Chicken stream in Paul Arsshina,
Coastal sandy sand, -

So that this leisure unknown
A piece of us gave land
Became the place last, doc
The last Germans reached.

Let it be a ramless field
Where today we had to stand
Suddenly will become the most stronger

Which Germans do not take.
After all, only in Mozhaisk county
Slave the name of the village,
Which is later Russia
Borodin called.

1942, July