Текст песни Белогвардейская песня - Юнкера

Gentlemen, gentlemen officers,
We are lost, the paths are closed.
The sun of the afterlife came out
On an empty sky of earth

Our horses are probably tired
And it is unclear where they carry us.
The gypsies wondered in vain
Foreshadowing the dashing years.

But look, see what happened to us:
Our uniform is torn apart by a blade
And the sound of the old guitar cut off
The officer's cabin is empty.

Sorry, sorry for everything -
For love and a bloody hilt,
And for living in this world
Like angels from alien skies.

Juncker, golden shoulder straps,
Friends accompany you on a hike,
And tears are running down your cheeks,
Turning into sparkling ice ...