(ïåõîòíûå êîëîííû )
Boots (Infantry Columms) by R. Kipling
ñâîáîäíûé ïåðåâîä
Ñëåä â ñëåä, ñëåä â ñëåä - ìû èä¸ì ïî Àôðèêå.
Ñëåä â ñëåä, ñëåä â ñëåä - â ñàïîãàõ ïî Àôðèêå.
(Øàã-â-øàã, øàã-â-øàã - çà èäóùèì âïåðåäè!)
Íà âîéíå îòñòàâîê íåò!
Ñåìü - øåñòü - äåâÿòü - ñåìü - äâàäöàòü äåâÿòü ìèëü âñåãî.
Äåñÿòü - äåâÿòü - âîñåìü - ïÿòü - íàêàíóíå òðèäöàòü äâå.
(Øàã-â-øàã, øàã-â-øàã çà èäóùèì âïåðåäè!)
Íà âîéíå îòñòàâîê íåò!
Íåò-íåò-íåò-íåò - íå ñìîòðè ïîâåðõ ãîëîâ.
(Øàã-â-øàã, øàã-â-øàã çà èäóùèì âïåðåäè!)
Ìû-ìû-ìû-ìû ñõîäèì ìåäëåííî ñ óìà.
Íà âîéíå îòñòàâîê íåò!
Äàé-äàé-äàé-äàé âñïîìíèòü ÷òî-íèáóäü åù¸.
Î-áîã-âîé-íû, ñîõðàíè ðàññóäîê ìîé!
(Øàã-â-øàã, øàã-â-øàã çà èäóùèì âïåðåäè!)
Íà âîéíå îòñòàâîê íåò!
Ñ÷¸ò-ñ÷¸ò-ñ÷¸ò-ñ÷¸ò - âñå ïàòðîíû ïîñ÷èòàé -
Íå-çà-ñû-ïàé - çàäíèå òåáÿ ñîìíóò!
(Øàã-â-øàã, øàã-â-øàã çà èäóùèì âïåðåäè!)
Íà âîéíå îòñòàâîê íåò!
Ææ¸ò-ææ¸ò-ææ¸ò-ææ¸ò. Æàæäà, ãîëîä — åðóíäà,
Ëèøü-áû-íà-ìèã îáîðâàëñÿ ýòîò áðåä:
Øàã-â-øàã, øàã-â-øàã çà èäóùèì âïåðåäè.
Íà âîéíå îòñòàâîê íåò!
Äí¸ì-ëåã÷å-òåðïåòü - ñ êåì-òî ñëîâî, ñ êåì-òî äâà!
Íî-ìîë÷à-ñêâîçü-ñîí ìèëëèîíû â ñàïîãàõ
Øàã-â-øàã, øàã-â-øàã çà èäóùèì âïåðåäè!
Íà âîéíå îòñòàâîê íåò!
ß-ø¸ë-øåñòü-íåäåëü ÷åðåç-Àä, ÷òîá ïîäòâåðäèòü:
Òàì-íåò íè îãíÿ, íè êîòëîâ, íè Ñàòàíû,
Ëèøü ñëåä-ñëåä-ñëåä îò èäóùèõ âïåðåäè.
Íà âîéíå îòñòàâîê íåò!
Boots
INFANTRY COLUMNS
We're foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin' over Africa —
Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin' over Africa —
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Seven—six—eleven—five—nine-an'-twenty mile to-day —
Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty-two the day before —
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Don't—don't—don't—don't—look at what's in front of you.
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again);
Men—men—men—men—men go mad with watchin' em,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
Try—try—try—try—to think o' something different —
Oh—my—God—keep—me from goin' lunatic!
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Count—count—count—count—the bullets in the bandoliers.
If—your—eyes—drop—they will get atop o' you!
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again) —
There's no discharge in the war!
We—can—stick—out—'unger, thirst, an' weariness,
But—not—not—not—not the chronic sight of 'em —
Boot—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!
'Taint—so—bad—by—day because o' company,
But night—brings—long—strings—o' forty thousand million
Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again.
There's no discharge in the war!
I—'ave—marched—six—weeks in 'Ell an' certify
It—is—not—fire—devils, dark, or anything,
But boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again,
An' there's no discharge in the war!