Текст песни Бабкины внуки - Два брата

There were, well, two brothers from the Turkish front
From the Turkish front home

As soon as we crossed the Polish border
Hit the pole and three times

Hit, hit, he hurt my chest
To hurt my wounds, to hurt

One heals, another abscesses
And the third, I have to die

And at home, kids, a young wife
Everything is waiting, waiting for me

And let him wait, who cares
She won't wait for me

Only a little bit will the deep grave
Rather, wait for me

There were, well, two brothers from the Turkish front
From the Turkish front home