Текст песни Поиск - Опасна поисковая тропа

A search trail is dangerous
In the fog, the horizon is still not short,
But where I dug clay with you,
Obelisks grow behind us.
Half a century, how the war left us,
And still there are still cartridges in the earth,
Names returned to the dead
The medallions we read.
God bless the search engines,
Finds, orders,
old coins
But how many were buried there,
Today bombed by mines ...
From the excavation he dragged his feet
Looking in the back of the head in front,
I guess the thoughts of the executioner
The shooter, perhaps in the very best.
A search trail is dangerous
Reckoning for her is inexorable:
I look at faces - I see skulls
I look at the skulls and see the faces.

Nikolai Danilov
August 23-27, 1994
Glukhov - Odessa.