Текст песни Е. Росс В. Трофимов - Рубцовские лагеря Алтая

Poplars stretch high into the sky
On a date, mother and son would not part.
Camp Rubtsovsk maps confused
Barbed wire entangled life.

Temple of the saint erected - at least for a confession.
It is now in the camp bell to ring.
Put a candle "for health" and "for the peace"
holy temple stands behind barbed wire.

Chorus:
Rubtsovsk camp, the Siberian land.
Under the church there is a bell is heard barking dogs.
Rubtsovsk camp kolyshatsya poplar.
And on a date whine mother.
The camps ...

"You pray, my son, do not you dare to shoot the cross.
You pray, my son "- quietly weeping mother -
God will forgive you, time will heal. "
"You pray, my son" - the bell rings.

Oh, no, Mom, speak now
I hunted like an animal in a cage,
Our life - a game all kraplёnaya,
Knowing my fate is condemned.

Chorus - 2 times.