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He Did Not Return from Battle

Versions: #1
Why is everything amiss? All seems to be as before:
The sky is unchanged - still blue,
Neither the forest, nor the water, nor the air have changed,
Only he did not return from battle.
 
Now I will never know, who was in the right,
In our arguments during sleepless nights.
Only now I realize how dear he was to me,
When he did not return from battle.
 
He was always silent out of turn, and he sang out of tune,
I never seemed to understand him,
He never let me sleep, always getting up with the dawn,
But yesterday, he did not return from battle.
 
Now that all is empty - and I can't seem to find the right words,
I suddenly realized - there were two of us.
It was as if wind extinguished a bonfire,
When he did not return from battle.
 
Today it escaped from me, as spring breaks free from captivity,
I mistakenly called out to him,
'My friend, let me have a smoke!' - And in response - silence:
Yesterday he did not return from battle.
 
Our dead will never let us down,
Our fallen - are like sentries.
The sky is reflected in the forest as if in water,
And the trees stand, blue.
 
We had plenty of space even in the foxhole,
And even time ran for us both.
Now everything is for one. Only it seems to me,
That it is I who did not return from battle.
 

Reconnaissance in Force

Everyone is standing at attention.1
“Volunteers only – one step forth!”
We are to conduct a recon mission.
Why it’s needed? It does matter not.
 
Who's with me? What’s our group?
So, Borísov... So, Leónov...
Plus, there’s this fellow troop
From the second light battalion!
 
We are crawling with our heads in daisies:
“Нey, staff sergeant, don’t you fall behind!”
Battlefront has two front lines, two faces:
Ours, and there’s the enemy’s front line.
 
Who's with me? What’s our group?
So, Borisov... So, Leonov...
Yes, there’s this fellow troop
From the second light battalion!
 
Wires were cut without a hesitation:
Night is dark, and nothing could be seen.
Twenty steps ahead are foreign helmets,
Donned with same idea: brains to keep.
 
Who's with me? What’s our group?
So, Borisov... So, Leonov...
Oh, there’s this fellow troop
From the second light battalion!
 
Soon we’ll get our Moaning Minnie visit:2
Zero six: they start the shelling fast.
It’s all right. We will proceed with business.
Well, Godspeed, it’s time for us to start.
 
Who is following me?
So, Borisov... Where's Leonov?!
Are you alive? Hey, kid
From the second light battalion!
 
One dugout was blown, a pillbox’s spotted,
I won’t leave a bullet for myself.
And this fellow, wish I knew him better,
Surprisingly is very well behaved.
 
Next time whom to invite?
Where's Borisov?... Where's Leonov?
But this boy’s still alive,
From the second light battalion.
 
... I am standing calmly at attention.
This time I am facing all my men.
Looks like I received a commendation,
Some award was mentioned with my name.
 
Next time whom I should take?
Where's Borisov?... Where's Leonov?
And went silent this lad
From the second light battalion.
 

• 1. please see Author's comments
• 2. a wartime nickname given by Allied soldiers to Nebelwerfer 41, a German multiple rocket launcher, known for its distinctive moaning sound. The Russian nickname present in lyrics is more colorful: Nadya with chocolate. The exact origins of this nickname are debatable.

He did not return from the fight

Versions: #1
Why is everything wrong? It seems to be all there:
It's blue again and always the same sky,
The same forest, the same water and the same air,
Only he did not return from the fight.
 
I don't get it now, which of us was right in the end
In our disputes without sleep every night.
Only now I realized how much I miss my friend,
When he did not return from the fight.
 
He was quiet, reserved, out of tune, when sang along,
Always talked of something else late at night,
He kept me awake all night long, he got up at dawn,
And yesterday he did not return from the fight.
 
The fact, that this place is empty, not worth discussing,
Then it hit me, we were both here last night.
It felt like the fire was blown out by the wind,
When he did not return from the fight.
 
Spring broke free now, as if from a prison camp fence,
I called out to him, not thinking straight:
-Mate, leave me a few drags! In response only silence:
Yesterday he didn’t return from the fight.
 
Our dead soldiers will not leave us alone in strife,
Our fallen friends will be like our sentries.
The forest like water reflecting the sky,
And the blue of the sky on the trees.
 
We had enough room in dugout and one enemy,
Time flowed for both of us on dark nights.
Everything is now for one. Only it seems to me,
It is me who didn’t return from the fight.
 
-
 

Strings of Sterling Silver

Versions: #1
My guitar is all I have – step aside, enclosures!
Lady Luck was mean to me: I have lost my freedom!
You could slash my throat at once, slash my veins wide open,
Just restrain from breaking my strings of sterling silver!
 
I will burrow down and parish in an instance.
Who is there to stand up for my youthful spirit?
They had pierced my heart, they tear my soul to pieces.
Just restrain from breaking my strings of sterling silver!
 
My guitar they took away. Same goes with my freedom.
I was fighting them and cried: Bastards! Filthy stinkers!
You could stomp me deep in dirt, throw me in the water,
Just restrain from breaking my strings of sterling silver!
 
What is going, brothers? Does it mean from now on
I will not see sunny days or moonless evenings?
They have ruined my very soul, took away my freedom.
Well, and now they did break my strings of sterling silver!
 

Peak

Versions:
Here you do not have a plain, here climate is foreign -
Avalanches come one after another,
And herе behind the rockfall roars rockfall
 
And it's possible to return, to go around the precipice,
But we choose the hard way,
Dangerous, like a war trail. (x2)
 
Who has not been here, who has not risked,
He has not challenged himself,
Even if he caught the stars from the sky.
 
Down there you would not see, regardless of how you stretch,
For the whole of your happy life
Tenth of the beauties and the wonders. (x2)
 
Not scarlet roses and mournful ribbons,
And not like a monument
That stone, which gifted you a rest.
 
Like The Eternal fire, sparkles during the day
The peak of emerald ice,
The one, you at the end did not overcome. (x2)
 
And let them speak, yes, let them speak...
But no, no one dies meaninglessly!
That is better, than from vodka and from cold!
 
Others will come, change the mood
At risk and at unprecedented work, -
Will go through yours unpassed route. (x2)
 
Vertical walls... but, do not delay!
You do not rely on your luck here.
In mountains neither the stone, nor the ice, nor the rocks are reliable
 
We hope only on the firmness of the arm,
On the friend's arm and on hammered hook
And pray so that the belay does not betray us (x2)
 
We are cutting steps... Not a step back!
And from the pressure the knees are shaking,
And the heart is ready to leave the chest and go towards the peak.
 
Whole world on your hands! You are happy and speechless
And only a little you envy them,
The others, who have the peak ahead of them. (x2)
 

The hope

Versions: #1
My shaking hands are getting calm-
Time to ascend,
My fear felt in the deepest chasm-
No doubts are left.
 
I see no reasons to get stop-
I’ve to slide up,
And are no summits in the world,
Where we give up!
 
Among the ways, which were not past,
The one- is mine!
Among the borders, which still last
One- on my line!
 
And names of those, who died here
Are stored by snow,
A road, which leads to nowhere,
Calls me to go!
The blue light, shining from the ice
Keeps me to walk,
And mystery of someone’s footprints
Are saved by the rock
 
And I may watch my only dream
Above the heads,
Trusting the clearance, only seen
For snow, this melts
 
And let’s long term is passing by,
I’ll not forget
How all doubts of mine
I’d have to left
 
The day the water whispered to me:
-Good luck, my friend!
What week was, when that time had come?
Sure, Wednesday than!
 

Farewell

Versions: #1
Ships will linger awhile, plan their voyage, and sail
And though the weather is foul, they will soon reappear
Half-a-year will not pass, and I’ll return without fail
Just to set out again, just to sail again
For half a year
 
Everybody comes back, only dear friends get lost,
And the faithful women with whom we were blessed
Everybody returns, but the ones we need most
I believe not in fate, I believe not in fate
In myself - even less
 
I would like to believe all is not how it seems
That the burning of ships is a craze that can’t last
I will surely return, full of friends, full of dreams
I will soon sing again, I will soon sing again
Half-a-year will not pass
 

The Suits of Timber

Versions: #1
Same old same old, we’re either gloomy or we’re cheerful,
But If we are to choose and it requires prudence,
We make our choice, selecting suits of timber,
Humans! Humans!
 
Of course they would suggest that we can lose, not win.
They say: “How foolish, you just started living!
You’re actually just about to begin!”
But then they give a choice to take or leave it.
 
It’s either beaches, exhibitions or, for instance,
The vessels that carry goods they must deliver.
The social meetings, stagecoaches, expeditions,
Or, simply put, these common suits of timber.
 
They will be either gloomy or too cheerful
They’ll play the roles of evil jokers or good men1,
Despite of this, they’ll offer us suits of timber.
Humans! Humans!
 
They even would allow to smoke and to take five,
They will remember our need for smoking.
'You hardly even started through your life!”
But then they give a choice to take or leave it.
 
Elusive something is what cigarettes evoke:
A single puff is better than all thinking.
I crave for smoking! Oh, how much I want to smoke!
Yet, it’s high time to choose our suits of timber.
 
A happy life they’ll hand us on a silver platter:
It is so courteous of them as well as moving,
But we’ll refuse and they will land a brutal bashing.
Humans! Humans! Humans!
 

• 1. good judges in the original

IN A RESTAURANT

Versions: #1
On the walls of this restaurant were hanging
'Three Bears' and 'Fallen Soldier'.
A Captain was seated alone at one table.
'May I', I asked. 'Please', he responded.
 
'Cigarette?' I offered. 'No thanks, not my brand', he answered.
'Fine, how about a drink - but I need a glass.'
'They'll bring one.'. 'Ein Prosit to you!' I said.
'Your health!' said he. 'I'm working on it!' said I.
 
'So', says the Captain - a bit under the weather -
'I see you can handle your vodka just fine, but...
Have you ever seen a machine gun, or a tank - up close?'
Have you, say, ever been in an attack?'
 
He continued: 'In '43 I was a Sergeant-Major at Kursk.
I'm glad that's behind me - that kind of stuff!
And lot's more, friend! Over! Done!
So that you could lead a good life, sonny boy!'
 
He continued drinking and cursing, then asked about my dad.
He was talking loudly, glancing at the food with disinterest.
'I put my life on the line for you, kid,
and you, you're just living it up, like some whore!'
 
'What if I gave you a rifle, sent you into combat?!
You, who just sit there drinking up my vodka?'
I felt like I was in a trench there in the Kursk salient,
When this Captain was serving as a Sergeant-Major.
 
He kept on with his drinking, but I was not far behind.
Finally, at the end of our conversation,
I insulted him, when I said, 'Captain!
Sorry, but I don't think you are ever going to make Major!'
 

Small river

Flows, flowing river, but on the sand,
Berezhok washes, berekhochek washes.
And young ghulman, oh yes young ghulman
Boss prays
And young ghulman, oh yes young ghulman
My boss.
Oh you, bosses, yes over bosses,
Let go, let go.
There missed you, and maybe missed
On freedom Drolya.
There missed you, and maybe missed
On freedom Drolya.
I would let you go
But you will steal, you will steal.
Come drink you water, water, water cold,
About love you forget.
You drink some cold water
About love you forget.
Yes, I drank water, oh drank cold,
He drank, drank, drank, did not get drunk.
And I loved a girl in freedom
I enjoyed it with her.
The coffin is carried, the horse is led
No one's tears, no one shed,
A young girl
Zhulmana buries.
Flows, flows, flows little river, but on the sand,
Washes, washes gold.
And the young Ghulman, the young Ghulman
Earned the tower.
River flows, yes on the sand,
Berezhok washes, wets the banks.
And young and prostitute,
In the river legs wets.
And young and prostitute,
In the river legs wets.
 

Eight of them, two of us...

Eight of them, two of us, the fight plans
Don't suit us, but we will play!
*Serezha, hold on! We have no chance,
But we need to equalize tramp cards today.
 
This square of the sky, I'll not neglect-
The numbers now not important to me at all:
Today my friend protecting my back,
That means- our chances are equal.
 
The 'messer' *appeared on my tail, but smoke billowing on its wake,
With anguish the propellers were howling,-
They don't even need the crosses on the graves-
It's good enough the crosses on the wings!
 
I'm-'The First', I'm-'The First', they under your plane!
To cut them off I'll try!
I'll cover you, hide in the clouds, kill the flame!
There is no miracles in the *dogfight.
 
Sergei, you're burning! Trust, man,
Your straps now, they are reliable!
No, it's too late, the 'messer' coming towards my front,-
I'll take him head on, farewell!..
 
I know, someone else will even the score,-
But sliding among the clouds,
Like two planes our souls will soar,-
After all, they can't be each other without.
 
Archangel will tell us:' It will be hard in heaven!'
But as soon as the gate behind will slam,-
I' will ask God:' Do enter me and my friend
In some sort of angelic regiment!'
 
And I'll ask God, the Spirit and the Son,-
So he can make easy my plight:
Let my friend for eternity cover my back, as he done,
Like in that final dogfight!
 
We will ask God to give us wings and arrows, a lot,-
After all, they in need of angel-ace,-
And if they have many fighter pilots-
Let them enlist as custodians us!
 
It's also a matter of honor to keep others save,-
To bear good luck on the wing everywhere
As we were, when alive, me and Sergei
On the land as well as in the air
 
As we were, when alive, me and Sergei
On the land as well as in the air
 

Vershina (Вершина) The Summit

It’s not a field, here, the climate is different
Avalanches come one after the other,
And here, after a rockfall roars a rockfall
 
And one can veer off to find a bypass around the cliff
But we opt for the tough path
Dangerous as a warpath (х2)
 
Who hasn’t been here, nor taken a risk,
He never tested himself,
Even if down below he managed to grab the stars from the sky
 
Below you never will meet, no matter how hard you reach,
In all your happy life
Even a tenth part of such beauty and wonders at large.(х2)
 
No roses of red, no mourning ribbons,
And so unlike a monument
Is the stone that eventually put you to rest
 
Like Fire Eternal there blazes during the day
The summit with emerald ice,
The summit you’ve left unconquered as yet. (х2)
 
And let 'em all talk, yes, let ‘em all talk,
But no, nobody dies in vain,
It’s better than from vodka and common colds.
 
And others will come and trade comforts
For risk and this immense amount of work
They’ll walk the travel route you didn't complete (х2)
 
The steep walls, don't you snooze,
You don’t rely on luck here,
In mountains there is no reliability in
Neither the glacier nor the stone wall
 
We only rely on is the strength of our hands
The hands of friends and in a hammered hook
And praying, that our belay should never let us down (х2)
 
We’re cutting the steps… No stepping back (x2)
And from tension, our knees are shaking,
And the heart is ready to run to the summit from the chest.
 
The entire world on the palm of the hand, you are happy and numb,
 
And slightly jealous of those,
The others, who still have this summit ahead of them (х2)