Текст песни Владимир Высоцкий - Люди середины

Kissing in dusty silk banner
And spitting into despair prostheses
Field Marshal called: "Come on, my fine regiment!
Despise death, my thugs! "

Crumpled banners proud,
Talented inflamed speech -
Pushing back and bottoms,
Some sought in the first rows -
And the first went under the grapeshot.

Dodger - and one that would not dare -
Not wishing to pay the price,
Pauls in the back row - but there is not survived:
He also took on its scope -
And in the back killed for treason.

Today, one in three - no boots,
But after the battle - heal as Croesus -
Great Regiment, trustworthy, loyal regiment -
Selected in the regiment thugs!

And the third - amid battles and troubles
They tried to save and chest, and back -
Without leaving any in the first series,
No back - but because of the food
They fought for the middle ground.

They write thick works
And they will die in the frames in the picture -
Those who did not come to the forefront,
But there were no rear - and proud
What honestly languished in the middle.

Already trumpeter without honors silent,
Not heard of copper, iron quieter ringing -
Broken and crushed trustworthy, loyal regiment
In that very often some thugs.

But no, they do not tarnish the honor of banners.
Field Marshal breathed fun and smoothly -
To them in the eyes of the children to justify
He said: "Someone has to die -
And someone has to survive - by far "

Let no stars dimmer than they -
Confident make it to the death -
Hidden behind desperate and evil,
The last row of leaving for other -
Moderate people middle.

In the mud trampled banners, crumpled silk
Field marshal's baton and dentures.
Ah, the glorious regiment! .. Yes, there was a glorious regiment
In that very often some thugs ?!