Юрий Брыгин - Баллада о страдалице Востока
текст песни

Ballad about the sufferness of the East
We were happily drunk by iron hand
Tested in the battles of the Commissioner.
On a white-to-garden shovel and pick
We destroyed the old world under the convoy.

And after the grid world grill
We covered the borders of the embrasures ...
Squandered doves our feat front
Under the vigor of unknown censorship.

And it is easier to live and even merges.
On the chests - the medals and uniforms ...
The country was given steel and gold fields ...
And our commanders did not sleep!

Dognali-overtakes damned capital!
In honor abroad, our idols!
And there was no sadness, but only here is tired
Sit down the simple people on the sachas yes.

We are tired, by God, from the loud "Hurray!" ,
From eternal arrears of penalty!
Master-graded woke up masters
In the case of reposit-restructuring!

They are iniquitable, thank youth!
They regenerate ideas!
In some new sense, some kind of new -ism
Conceived to build on Rossei !!!

... Ah, Mother-Russia, a country of my fathers,
Great sufferers of the East!
I sooned Vitiyev and others ... the wise men!
Although it was enough for one - the Prophet !!!