Azov guerrilla


We only had seven or more-not a soul,
We made our way smooth, rustling reeds.

Chorus:
The guerrillas, will never forget
Sea of ​​Azov, the military of the year!

Burned military field birthmarks thunderstorm
And we met the children's severe eye.

Chorus.

His children have left, not soon meet them
Clumsy hands cradled others.

Chorus.

During the day a happy future soldiers go to fight
And our children will grow - about us you sing!

Chorus (2 times). 1953