Текст песни муз.Г.Булякова, сл. Вяч. Ложко - Отзовитесь, родные, исп. Ел.Лебеденко

An echo of a distant war
The trees of separation sprout
In the riot of colors of the new spring
Women pull their hands to the past.

Respond, relatives, they are waiting for you,
Waiting like the highest grace
How many bitter hours and minutes
The ocean of melancholy fit! ..
2
Parting eyes corrode
Dries a long-weakened breast,
A thunderstorm will rumble over the fields,
And again loneliness is spinning ...

Maybe those who lie in the graves
Do they also skip bitter grief?
Like crows, the years circle
Die with longing in their eyes ...