Текст песни Штурман Жорж - Сталинград

Winter is the forty-first to the forty-fifth
The most ferocious month - February in forty-third
Those who are alive, thank ordinary soldiers.
We are a great grandchildren, grandchildren, mice, we his children.
Grateful for the fact that today do not hear
The roar of exploding bombs, the whistle of bullets and shells.
Grateful to those who survived fighting
In February, forty-third, in Stalingrad.

Stalingrad 4 p

Hope with dreams broken by the wind.
Flowers and snow began to love and pain.
About what happened then, in the forty-third
We remember and we know we know and remember.
The cooled sun, wind firing squad.
Leaden sky, sozhzhonnye hut.
No summer rains or spring inflorescences.
Winter with forty-one to forty-fifth.

Stalingrad 4 p

Fade over the years, becoming dust
courage of heroes, banners, awards.
And the eternal fire, lest we forget
February forty-third in Stalingrad.
Winter is the forty-first to the forty-fifth
Sleep forever under the granite slabs.
And the eternal flame, like a soldier's heart,
Punched right through the heart of a hero.

Stalingrad 4 p

Stalingrad 4 p

Stalingrad 4 p