Малинин Александр - Махно
текст песни

What is this field?
I don’t know, my chieftain
What kind of city is this?
The devil knows, my chieftain
What kind of people are these?
Death, my chieftain
A tear danced on the saber, and the hussar's uniform
Covered in seeds, like the villages of Malorossa
“Ivanhoe” was read to the core by the unshaven lads
Horses snoring, ants and wasps in the grass
Don't write to me about love, because the memory burns my heart
All our childhood sufferings are bathed in blood by fate
The tight thread has broken, our holiday is so similar to mourning
And in the labyrinths of the Minotaur we are forever destined to wander
And the devil forced me to be born in Russia!
Now we are servile, now we quietly rebel, talkers and thieves
Now we repent, now we whip each other as best we can
Either we solve the world's problems, or we steal laundry
Don't write to me about love, because the memory burns my heart
All our childhood sufferings are bathed in blood by fate
The tight thread has broken, our holiday is so similar to mourning
And in the labyrinths of the Minotaur we are forever destined to wander
Civil vile massacre without rules and bribes
The roulette is spun, but the ball will land on zero
They take a handful for the Motherland, a dozen for freedom
And the rest is war, for whom
Don't write to me about love, because the memory burns my heart
All our childhood sufferings are bathed in blood by fate
The tight thread has broken, our holiday is so similar to mourning
And in the labyrinths of the Minotaur we are forever destined to wander
A tear danced on the saber, and the hussar's uniform
Covered in seeds, like the villages of Malorossa
“Ivanhoe” was read to the core by the unshaven lads
Horses snoring, ants and wasps in the grass