Lyrics Василий Тёркин - О награде
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- Нет, ребята, я не гордый.
Не загадывая вдаль,
Так скажу: зачем мне орден?
Я согласен на медаль.
На медаль. И то не к спеху.
Вот закончили б войну,
Вот бы в отпуск я приехал
На родную сторону.
Буду ль жив еще? — Едва ли.
Тут воюй, а не гадай.
Но скажу насчет медали:
Мне ее тогда подай.
Обеспечь, раз я достоин.
И понять вы все должны:
Дело самое простое -
Человек пришел с войны.
Вот пришел я с полустанка
В свой родимый сельсовет.
Я пришел, а тут гулянка.
Нет гулянки? Ладно, нет.
Я в другой колхоз и в третий -
Вся округа на виду.
Где-нибудь я в сельсовете
На гулянку попаду.
И, явившись на вечерку,
Хоть не гордый человек,
Я б не стал курить махорку,
А достал бы я "Казбек".
И сидел бы я, ребята,
Там как раз, друзья мои,
Где мальцом под лавку прятал
Ноги босые свои.
И дымил бы папиросой,
Угощал бы всех вокруг.
И на всякие вопросы
Отвечал бы я не вдруг.
- Как, мол, что? — Бывало всяко.
- Трудно все же? — Как когда.
- Много раз ходил в атаку?
- Да, случалось иногда.
И девчонки на вечерке
Позабыли б всех ребят,
Только слушали б девчонки,
Как ремни на мне скрипят.
И шутил бы я со всеми,
И была б меж них одна...
И медаль на это время
Мне, друзья, вот так нужна!
Ждет девчонка, хоть не мучай,
Слова, взгляда твоего...
- Но, позволь, на этот случай
Орден тоже ничего?
Вот сидишь ты на вечерке,
И девчонка — самый цвет.
- Нет,- сказал Василий Теркин
И вздохнул. И снова: — Нет.
Нет, ребята. Что там орден.
Не загадывая вдаль,
Я ж сказал, что я не гордый,
Я согласен на медаль.
_______
Теркин, Теркин, добрый малый,
Что тут смех, а что печаль.
Загадал ты, друг, немало,
Загадал далеко вдаль.
Были листья, стали почки,
Почки стали вновь листвой.
А не носит писем почта
В край родной смоленский твой.
Где девчонки, где вечерки?
Где родимый сельсовет?
Знаешь сам, Василий Теркин,
Что туда дороги нет.
Нет дороги, нету права
Побывать в родном селе.
Страшный бой идет, кровавый,
Смертный бой не ради славы,
Ради жизни на земле.
- No, guys, I'm not proud.
Without looking into the distance
So I will say: why do I need an order?
I agree to a medal.
For a medal. And that is not in a hurry.
That used to end the war,
I wish I would come on vacation
To the home side.
Am I still alive? - Hardly.
Fight here, and don't guess.
But I will say about the medal:
Give it to me then.
Provide, if I am worthy.
And you must understand everything:
The simplest thing is
The man came from the war.
So I came from a stop
To his native village council.
I came, and here is a party.
No partying? Okay, no.
I'm on another collective farm and on a third -
All districts in plain sight.
Somewhere I'm in the village council
I'll get to the party.
And, appearing in the evening,
Though not a proud man
I wouldn't smoke makhorka,
And I would get "Kazbek".
And I would sit, guys,
There, my friends,
Where did the boy hide under the bench
Your feet are bare.
And would smoke with a cigarette,
I would treat everyone around.
And all sorts of questions
I would not answer all of a sudden.
- How, they say, what? - It happened differently.
- Is it difficult yet? - How when.
- Did you go on the attack many times?
- Yes, it happened sometimes.
And girls in the evening
I would forget all the guys
Only the girls would listen
How the belts creak on me.
And I would joke with everyone
And there would be one between them ...
And a medal for this time
Friends, I need it like that!
The girl is waiting, though don't torture me
Words, your look ...
- But, let me, in this case
The order is also nothing?
Here you sit in the evening
And the girl is the most color.
- No, - said Vasily Terkin
And he sighed. And again: - No.
No guys. That there is an order.
Without looking into the distance
Well I said that I'm not proud
I agree to a medal.
_______
Terkin, Terkin, good fellow,
What is laughter and what is sadness.
You have thought, friend, a lot,
Thought far into the distance.
There were leaves, there were buds,
The buds have become foliage again.
And the mail does not carry letters
To your native land of Smolensk.
Where are the girls, where are the evenings?
Where is the native village council?
You know yourself, Vasily Terkin,
That there is no road there.
No road, no right
Visit your native village.
A terrible battle is going on, bloody,
Mortal combat is not for the glory
For life on earth.
Without looking into the distance
So I will say: why do I need an order?
I agree to a medal.
For a medal. And that is not in a hurry.
That used to end the war,
I wish I would come on vacation
To the home side.
Am I still alive? - Hardly.
Fight here, and don't guess.
But I will say about the medal:
Give it to me then.
Provide, if I am worthy.
And you must understand everything:
The simplest thing is
The man came from the war.
So I came from a stop
To his native village council.
I came, and here is a party.
No partying? Okay, no.
I'm on another collective farm and on a third -
All districts in plain sight.
Somewhere I'm in the village council
I'll get to the party.
And, appearing in the evening,
Though not a proud man
I wouldn't smoke makhorka,
And I would get "Kazbek".
And I would sit, guys,
There, my friends,
Where did the boy hide under the bench
Your feet are bare.
And would smoke with a cigarette,
I would treat everyone around.
And all sorts of questions
I would not answer all of a sudden.
- How, they say, what? - It happened differently.
- Is it difficult yet? - How when.
- Did you go on the attack many times?
- Yes, it happened sometimes.
And girls in the evening
I would forget all the guys
Only the girls would listen
How the belts creak on me.
And I would joke with everyone
And there would be one between them ...
And a medal for this time
Friends, I need it like that!
The girl is waiting, though don't torture me
Words, your look ...
- But, let me, in this case
The order is also nothing?
Here you sit in the evening
And the girl is the most color.
- No, - said Vasily Terkin
And he sighed. And again: - No.
No guys. That there is an order.
Without looking into the distance
Well I said that I'm not proud
I agree to a medal.
_______
Terkin, Terkin, good fellow,
What is laughter and what is sadness.
You have thought, friend, a lot,
Thought far into the distance.
There were leaves, there were buds,
The buds have become foliage again.
And the mail does not carry letters
To your native land of Smolensk.
Where are the girls, where are the evenings?
Where is the native village council?
You know yourself, Vasily Terkin,
That there is no road there.
No road, no right
Visit your native village.
A terrible battle is going on, bloody,
Mortal combat is not for the glory
For life on earth.