Iosif Kobzon - Баллада о красках(Ballada o kraskah) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

The Ballad About The Colours.

He was redhead, like a stew from *milcap,
As oranges on snow gingerhead.
Mother was joking, mother was fun-
I gave birth to a son from the sun.
 
And another son was black, like black hole afar,
Black as if a burned down tar,
She was laughing when asked about that,
She was laughing when asked about that,
She was laughing when asked about that,
The night was too dark, she said.
 
In the forty-first, in forty memorable year
The loudspeakers shouted, the war is here,
Both sons, both two, salt of the earth they were
They bowed low to the mother and gone to war.
 
It happened in the battle, they felt, the young one
Black smoke and furious red fire of the gun,
Wicked greenery of stagnant fields,
Wicked greenery of stagnant fields,
Wicked greenery of stagnant fields,
Grey colour of the frontline hospitals,and those killed.
 
Both sons, both two, two wings
They fought to victory, mum was waiting.
She wasn't angry, she didn't cursed the fate,
The death notification spared her place.
 
She got lucky, suddenly the happiness she found,
The only lucky one of three villages around.
She got lucky, she got lucky, her alone
She got lucky, she got lucky, her alone
She got lucky, she got lucky, her alone
Both sons to the village returned.
 
Both sons, flash and trait, well and sound,
Golden medals so many you couldn't count.
Shoulder to shoulder the sons side by side sit
Legs and hands are all intact, what else do you need?
 
As a custom the young wine they drink,
Both hair color changed, it seems.
Deathly white their hair became,
Deathly white their hair became,
Deathly white their hair became,
Apparently the war has a lot of white paint.
 
Deathly white their hair became,
Deathly white their hair became,
Deathly white their hair became,
Apparently the war has a lot of white paint.
 


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