S berez neslyishen, nevesom
Sletaet zheltyiy list,
Starinnyiy vals "Ose-e-enniy son"
Igraet garmonist.
Vzdyihayut, zhaluyas, basyi,
I slovno v zabyiti
Sidyat i slushayut boytsyi,
Tovarischi moi.
Pod etot vals vesennim dnem
Hodili myi na krug,
Pod etot vals v krayu ro-odnom
Lyubili myi podrug,
Pod etot vals lovili myi
Ochey lyubimyih svet,
Pod etot vals grustili myi
Kogda podrugi net.
I vot on snova prozvuchal
V lesu prifrontovom,
I kazhdyiy slushal i molchal
O chyom-to dorogom,
I kazhdyiy dumal o svoey,
Pripomniv tu vesnu,
I kazhdyiy znal - doroga k ney
Vedet cherez voynu.
Tak chto zh, druzya, kol nash chered,-
Da budet stal krepka!
Pust nashe serdtse ne-e zamret,
Ne zadrozhit ruka.
Pust svet i radost prezhnih vstrech
Nam svetyat v trudnyiy chas,
A kol pridetsya v zemlyu lech,
Tak eto zh tolko raz.
No pust i smert v ogne, v dyimu
Boytsa ne ustrashit,
I chto polozheno komu
Pust kazhdyiy sovershit.
Nastal chered, prishla pora, -
Idem, druzya, idem!
Za vse, chem zhili myi vchera,
Za vse, chto zavtra zhdem.
S berez neslyishen, nevesom
Sletaet zheltyiy list,
Starinnyiy vals "Ose-e-enniy son"
Igraet garmonist.
Vzdyihayut, zhaluyas, basyi,
I slovno v zabyiti
Sidyat i slushayut boytsyi,
Tovarischi moi. |
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