Songs for Standartenfurer Shtirlits

Николай Андреевич Гардба
Oh, Motherland
I beg you, just  a little while
My sharp pain, you should leave me off.
Cloud like,  gray gloom cloud like
Let you fly to my own home sharp
From here to the native  home then.

My sea shore, show yourself in far
As an edge, thinny-thinny line.
My dear  shore, gentle dear my shore,
Oh, to you, dear, I would stubbornly swim,
To swim up at least sometime.

Somewhere far, somewhere very far
It's raining torrential mushrooms.
Right by the river, in a small garden there
The cherries are ripe, leaning close to the ground.
Somewhere far away, in memory mine
Now, as in childhood, it's fondly warm,
Alack, though the memory is hidden
Under a such profound snows.

You, the heavy  storm,  give me seep  a drink,
Not to death but to satiety.
Here again, like the last my time,
I keep looking up at the blue sky
It's like I'm looking for an answer there…

Moments-instants
Don't think about seconds haughtily
The time will come, you will perceive, possibility -
They whistle like bullets at your temple,
Moments-instants,Moments-instants and instants

Instants  compressed sometimes into fool years
Instants compressed actually into centuries
And sometimes I don't really understand
Where is the first moment, where is it ending

But every instant  has its own reason
Own golden bells, own  mark indelible.
Instants distribute - whom a shame,
To whom is dishonor, and to whom immortality.

Rain is woven from such  tiny instants -
Water is flowing from heaven ordinary
And sometimes you wait almost half your life,
When it comes, your instant

It will do come, big as a deep sip,
A sip of water during the heat…
In general, you just need to follow the duty
From the first moment to the last.

Don't think about seconds haughtily
The time will come, you will perceive, possibility -
They whistle like bullets at your temple,
Moments-instants,Moments-instants and instants