Текст песни Булат Окуджава - старинная солдатская песня

Otshumeli songs of our regiment,
has rung ringing hooves.
Bullets pierced the bottom of the pot,
canteen-keeper young murdered.

We left a little: we let our pain.
We were a little bit and enemies.
As long as we are alive, necessity is the front-line,
and perish - Paradise Road.

Hands on the gate, his head in anguish,
and the soul has soared like.
What we write in blood on the sand?
Our letters do not need nature.

Sleep yourself, friends - all come again:
New born commanders,
New soldiers will receive
eternal state apartments.

Sleep yourself, friends - everything will start again,
it should be repeated in nature:
and words and bullets, and love, and the blood ...
time will not be reconciled.