Lyrics Юрий Щербаков - Конь боевой с походным вьюком
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А. Туроверов
Конь боевой с походным вьюком
У церкви ржет – кого-то ждет.
В ограде бабка плачет с внуком,
Молодка возле слезы льет.
А из дверей святого храма
Казак в доспехах боевых
Идет к коню из церкви прямо
С отцом, в кругу своих родных.
Жена коня подводит мужу,
Племянник пику подает.
«Вот, - говорит отец, - послушай
Моих речей ты наперед.
Мы послужили государю,
Теперь тебе черед служить.
Ну, поцелуй же женку Варю,
И Бог тебя благословит.
Но ни в бою, ни перед боем
Ты не бранися, не ругай;
Будь хрестьянин, и перед боем
Крестом себя ты осеняй.
Даю коня тебе лихого.
Он даровит был у меня.
Он твоего отца седого
Носил в огонь и из огня.
Конь боевой всего дороже,
И ты, мой сын, им дорожи,
И лучше сам ты ешь поплоше,
А лошадь в холе содержи!
А вот и пика родовая,
Подруга славы и побед,
И наша шашка боевая –
С ней бился я и бился дед».
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A. Turoverov
Horse fighting with a hiking pack
The church laughs - waiting for someone.
In the fence grandma cries with her grandson,
Molodka near tears pouring.
And from the doors of the holy temple
Cossack in battle armor
Going to the horse from the church right
With his father, in the circle of his relatives.
The horse's wife fails her husband,
Nephew picks up.
“Here,” says father, “listen
My speeches you forward.
We served the sovereign,
Now it's your turn to serve.
Well, kiss the wife I cook,
And God bless you.
But neither in battle nor before battle
You do not scold, do not scold;
Be a farmer, and before the battle
You cross the cross yourself.
I give the horse to you dashing.
He gave me a gift.
He is your father's gray
Wore in the fire and out of the fire.
Horse combat is the most expensive
And you, my son, cherish them,
And you better eat better yourself
And keep the horse in the hall!
And here is the generic peak,
Friend of glory and victories
And our battle checker -
I fought with her and my grandfather fought. ”
A. Turoverov
Horse fighting with a hiking pack
The church laughs - waiting for someone.
In the fence grandma cries with her grandson,
Molodka near tears pouring.
And from the doors of the holy temple
Cossack in battle armor
Going to the horse from the church right
With his father, in the circle of his relatives.
The horse's wife fails her husband,
Nephew picks up.
“Here,” says father, “listen
My speeches you forward.
We served the sovereign,
Now it's your turn to serve.
Well, kiss the wife I cook,
And God bless you.
But neither in battle nor before battle
You do not scold, do not scold;
Be a farmer, and before the battle
You cross the cross yourself.
I give the horse to you dashing.
He gave me a gift.
He is your father's gray
Wore in the fire and out of the fire.
Horse combat is the most expensive
And you, my son, cherish them,
And you better eat better yourself
And keep the horse in the hall!
And here is the generic peak,
Friend of glory and victories
And our battle checker -
I fought with her and my grandfather fought. ”