frosty darkness just fell on
our small self-dug trenches.
and we sit from dusk till dawn
on half-broken humid benches.
grip in hands our semi-guns,
we know for sure we'll be dead soon.
listen to the tweeting nuns,
we look up in the sky and pale moon...
* * *
put into the ground a flag's stud,
breathe out air mixed with burnt powder.
here we are in Stalingrad,
and we yell our hurrays louder.
* * *
hungry stomachs wamble quiet,
we hear good how pulses each vein.
an overbearing starry night
will assist us to regain.
poor and bombed-out motherland
is all what we have for today.
through the fear we understand
what we do will bring us V-day.
* * *
put into the ground a flag's stud,
breathe out air mixed with burnt powder.
here we are in Stalingrad,
and we yell our hurrays louder.
* * *
cannon barrels slowly steam,
here we lie shot dead and wounded.
but a waving banner gleams
and keeps honour unpolluted.
frosty darkness will fall on
our bespattered trenches.
and we'll sit from dusk till dawn
forever on those humid benches...
* * *
put into the ground a flag's stud,
breathe out air mixed with burnt powder.
here we are in Stalingrad,
and we yell our hurrays louder.