Текст песни Александр Твардовский - По дороге на Берлин

On the way to Berlin
On the way to Berlin
Gray Pooh Perin.
Wires of slanting lines,
Branches swelling Lip.
Pooh Perin threw like frost,
On sides of cars nalip.
And wheels of guns, kitchens
Dirt and snow interfere with Posh.
And falls on the chinel
With the sword wet blizzard ...
Boring climate abroad
Alien edge of red-brick
But war herself,
And the earth is trembling usual
Cruste crushed stone tiled
Locking from the roofs of the ...
Mother Russia, we have half
Your wheels went through
Behind leaving somewhere
Your rivers Roll Ples.
Long for a long time
In the edge of someone else stretched
White color of your birch
And on the way it came to no.
With the Volga, with ancient Moscow
How are you today far!
Between us and you -
Three not our language.
Late day not russian
Above a nice party.
Tiled crushed stone
Moknet in a puddle under the wall.
Everywhere inscription, marks,
Arrows, signs, badges,
Rings wire mesh,
Fences, doors, cells -
All purpose for longing ...
Our mother is our mother,
In the days of trouble and in the days of victory
No bright and more
And there is no welcome heart.
Think about soldier
Not predicted fate
Even lie down in the grave of fraternal
Better seems to be in you.
And the whole mile to the house,
To reach you alive
Apply to those edges:
- Hello, my homeland!
Your warrior, servant of the people,
With honor can be reported:
Fought four years
Grilled out of the hike
And now wishes to live.
He performed a duty to glory
Battle of your banners.
Who else has the right
So love you like him!
Day and night in battles replacing
Per month hats without removing
Your warrior, Son Defender,
Walked, hurried to you, native,
On the way to Berlin ...
On the road Nevinchu
Pooh Perin is clutching clouds.
Cities Burning Lom.
Smells a penny pen.
And under the roar of canonades
East, from MGLL and Sphuma,
How from the admin gate,
Along the highway the people flow.
Shocked, fellow
All blood, heated,
Gorky, fairy, hiking ...
To the east - one route.
East, through smoke and soot,
From one prison deaf
EUROPE is on houses.
Pooh Perin over her Purga.
And in the Russian soldier
Brother French, Briton brother,
Brother Pole and everything
With friendship as if guilty,
But the heart look.
On a unknown crossroad
For some coming moment -
Themselves stretch to hairstyle
Hands of girls are silent.
And from those speeches, smiles
Soldier's paint chips:
Here's Europe, and thanks
Everyone speaks Russian.
He stands, the liberator,
Side hat with star.
I say that, help a lover,
I'm about the simple.
They say, such a service is our
Other flags are not reproached ...
- Hey, and where are you, milf?
- And there, - home, son.
In blackside, in the way of the distance,
In motley gathering human
Suddenly the words of the birth of speech,
Grandma in the fur coat, with a hatch.
Old age sorter, yes not fluffyness
In that kittomka is injected.
Road cross-cross
All scarf is worked.
Greeted and got up
Countryman-fighter to become
Rustic, simple
Our worker mother.
Mother of holy eternal power
From obscure mothers
That in labor is not wear
And in any misfortune;
That fate, repeated
On earth a hundred times in a row
And grow in love sleepless,
And lose us, soldiers;
And live and do not form hands
Do not climb his eyes
Kohl is needed yet, perhaps,
Grandchildren instead of sons.
Mother alone in a foreign land somewhere!
- Is it far to the court?
- To the court? The courtyard is not
And herself because of the Dnieper ...
Stand, guys, not suitable,
To say so
Went home from abroad
Mother soldier on foot.
No, native, in order
Let us do, do not bother.
First-naked horse
With full dressing get.
Get equipment
Feet with rug.
And also you a cow
Together with the pitted sheep.
In the road road kettle with a mug
Yes bucket about stock,
Yes perinka yes