Текст песни Сергей Маховиков - Белая песня

Words and music by Yuri Borisov

Everyone is against us now, as if we didn't even wear a cross.
Like asps we are of the blood of Basurmans,
There is not even a place for us in Russia, crazed with grief,
And the Lord does not hear us - call do not call.

We have not slept for a year now, under our uniforms we hide our resentment,
We are waiting for the servile bullet below the buttonholes.
It's been a year since Tobolsk has called the tsar's requiem,
And anathematized the souls of the killers.

They are not God and not a king, they are not pain and conscience,
All of them "jail down" and "fire to heaven".
And fate is for us to read this terrible tale
In the sore eyes of mothers and brides.

And they look after us for a long time in a silent reproach,
Like an abandoned house on the road out of darkness.
There is nowhere to retreat - behind the Sea of ​​Japan,
This is where our Russia and we end.

In red Peter the white blizzard is spinning,
White frost on the walls of Moscow churches,
There is neither joy nor fear in the white sky,
Only the grief of the Mother of God in the white lamp of nights.

1967-1968