Текст песни Баллада о сыне - На пороге дома мать

In peace and quiet road,
Russian plain.
On the threshold of the house mother
Mourners son.

A pair of worn boots
Flask with moonshine,
Yes canvas bundle
With a small icon.

And the house, in silence,
Early at dawn
In my homeland
Howling black wind.

And over the field, where the stubble
Daleko were killed,
Circling in the sky crows
From the west to the east.

- You come back, son,
On the threshold of the native -
She said goodbye to her mother:
- Hurry to live
You come home -
Learn to see and kept his promise!

- Do not worry, mother,
Did you know -
He said in response to my dear son:
- A day in the morning
I will come to you -
I'll come back alive, unharmed!

Skewed old fence
In their native homes,
I do not hold back the first son
Own words.

He did not know that during the war,
Where not expect forgiveness,
Up in the morning to live harder,
How to return.