Текст песни Владимир Туриянский - Памяти брата

In the forests of Smolensk yes Vyazma
Lead drizzle in the Rye.
Brother in my shirt Coarse,
Killed by a bullet lies.

In gimnasterochke green
The forage cap with a red star,
I do not know women, inexperienced,
Now, forever young.

Oh, forty-three, forty-three,
Damn forty-three years old,
When killed - one in three,
When the platoon - not platoon.

And after the battle, on verification
Wheezing tired sergeant,
When a soldier manerka
For missed full.

Then buried under the broken
Strange bullets pine.
With the last word in political officer
Their journey is over earth.

Under a volley of military-boys
Sip wine treasury.
"For all nevinnoubiennyh" -
So quietly tell the foreman.

In the forests of Smolensk ...