Текст песни Александр Закшевский - Над могилой

Wind rustles softly,
A star above the foliage.
And leaning over the grave,
Mother sheds tears.
How is it, my son,
You lie not get up.
And do not say a word,
Mom will not name.

I have many years,
The pain of loss burden.
Forgive me, my son,
More I can not.
And a tear for tear,
And sobs on vzryd.
And he seemed to live,
Above the grave is.

loss

As always with a smile,
On the shoulder of the machine.
On the breast of the Order,
As if the stars are burning.
He's so young,
After all, a child at all.
But in the eyes I saw the gleam,
Adulthood already.

No worse than the share,
Bury sons.
How many of them were killed,
On the damn war.
Only the native image
Suddenly melted like snow.
Only suffering and pain,
Know manifest themselves.

Wind rustles softly,
A star above the foliage.
And leaning over the grave,
Mother sheds tears.
How is it, my son,
You lie not get up.
And do not say a word,
Mom will not name.