Текст песни Людмила Кононова - Было их с урядником тринадцать

Nikolay Nikolaevich Turoverov

There were thirteen of them with a contractor
Young bezusyh Cossacks.
The regiment is gone. Where to go now
Amid the icy shores?
People get tired, horses get too cold,
Blowing death from the depths of the sea ...
But the Lord whispered in the ear of the Son:
What are you looking at, My Merciful Son?
The son then put a robe over them,
And under the riza snow-white fur,
And everything is thicker, all bigger down
Spun on the snow pitch.
The wind has subsided. Breath of peace.
And, trusting in the blue snow,
The whole journey was equestrian
No loss to the paradise shores.