Текст песни Песни нашего века - Песня полярных летчиков

Leather jackets thrown in a corner
Duster curtained low window.
A northern blizzard roams behind the hangars
The little hotel is empty and dark.

The commander with the navigator will remember the old motive,
The head will be supported by the co-pilot.
Pulling up the strings of an old guitar
Following the flight engineer they quietly sing.

It’s time to forget this sad song, -
The motors and hearts are sheathed tightly.
Again pulls from the shore with snow and fog
Again, a non-flying night, even for the moon.

Bald romantics, airborne vagabonds,
Our lives are boyish eternal years.
Drive away the longing you drunk flasks
You, weather service, guess our happiness!

The sun is blissful and warm with the west,
And the obedient helm was in his gritty hands ...
Wait for us, not met schoolgirls-brides,
In small asphalt southern towns.

June 1, 1959