Текст песни Булат Окуджава - Батальное полотно

Battle canvas

Dust. Nature. Flutes voice nervous. Later rolling.
On the front horse goes the emperor in blue caftane.
White mare with brown eyes, with bangs crown.
Red popone. Wings behind your back, as before the war.

Following the emperor, generals, generals of retinues ride,
I am glorious, scars covered, just not killed.
Next - duelists, outgun-adjutants. Eggs shine.
All of them are handsome, they are all talents, they are all poets.

All weaker the sounds of the former clauses, the voices of the past.
Only the topot is measured, the flutes of the voice is nervous and evil hopes.
Everything is weaker than the smell of focus and smoke, milk and bread.
Somewhere under the legs and above the heads - only the earth and the sky.

Twilight went out. Flute suddenly silent. Swelling paints.
Slowly and chinno included in the night, like in the sea, quiver and helmets.
Do not see who is the main one who is a servant who - Barin, from the palace, from the hut,
All of them soldiers, the eternity of rich, are poor, rich.

1973.