A century is creaking earth, but the world has not become lighter,
You are tired of all this, and here
Sings the pipe, sucking to the lips of her hot metal -
She calls your tired friends.
And you were weak, and you were stupid, but all the bridges were burnt,
They do not return - they do not look back.
And you rise, and on your shoulders the dawns of spring
As the general's shoulder straps lie.
Steep uncles say: "Your attempts are ridiculous.
Where is your foolish army suitable?
Think of yourself - it will touch the cause of this war -
They are not able to keep the order! "
You will sweep the gray snow from your face, you smile easily.
You say: "True, but keep in mind:
Where your regular heroes will not leave the trench -
My soldiers will not bend over. "
And the plop and the creak, the damp sky furrowing his head,
He was taught to smile in a dream -
There is a seventh idiotic regiment private -
Your hope in this strange war.
And past dead trees float afar like water,
A pink rain is flowing along their branches.
They are silent, because they know why and where
Your ragged army leads.
And all for happiness, even the sky is a glass of the floor,
And everyone is happy, and in the staffs of no gu-gu,
And to the last soldier you idiotic regiment
He stood in the barrier and stayed in the snow.
And you can not think of awards-orders:
Total rewards - only know in advance,
What in the spring someone stumbles about your boots
And your idiotic standard will pick.