Клянусь здоровьем , я и пальцем не прикасался
к машинному переводу Землянки Алексея Сафронова.
Fire curls in a cramped stove,
Resin on the logs, like a tear.
And the accordion sings to me in the dugout
About your smile and eyes.
The bushes whispered to me about you
In snow-white fields near Moscow,
I want you to hear
How longing is my living voice.
You are now far, far away,
Between us snow and snow.
It's hard for me to get to you,
And there are four steps to death.
Sing, harmonica, blizzard out of spite,
Call the entangled happiness.
I'm warm in a cold dugout
From your unquenchable love.