Текст песни Антология афганской песни - Десант

The landing party does not know where it is laid
in flight charts his route.
The landing is sudden, like God's punishment,
unpredictable, like the Last Judgment.

At least for three seas, at least for three sorrows,
at least arguing with the wind, but at least with fire,
takes off soon, with death in a quarrel,
landing, do not be sad about him.

Half of Europe grabbed us in slings
we know the trails in any country.
In the central, southern, neutral, friendly
we will fight back to back.

And if the marshal does not believe in you,
and if they’re not waiting at home alive,
the random shore will answer for everything
where your parachute will land.