Текст песни Dena-zet - Брось свой щит

It once seemed to me:
The horizon is filled with blood
It burns with a red flame
Steppe from all sides.
What kind of battle, what kind of war
Well, why do we need this blood?
Blood makes us strangers -
And then the war is around.
 Drop your shield, pick the flowers
Red carnations of your beloved present!
The smell of gunpowder and smoke -
We can’t get used to the explosions ...
 Waiting for a soldier to write to her beloved
Mother is waiting for the soldier ...
The steppe burns and the heart cries
Oh, how you want to go home
These scarlet cloves
They only cause pain.
Drop your shield, pick the flowers
Red carnations of your beloved present!
But a bullet pierced my heart,
Like Cupid’s arrow
 And the soldier fell to the ground
 But looked at the heavens -
 And then he saw there:
 The horizon is filled with blood
It burns with a red flame
Steppe from all sides.
Drop your shield, pick the flowers
Red carnations of your beloved present!
Drop your shield, pick the flowers
Red carnations of your beloved present!