For factory Zastava


For factory Zastava,
Where the sunsets in the smoke,
Lived boy curly,
Seventeen him.
On the dawn of spring
That boy dreamed
Not only had he seen the light,
Kind words are not heard.

I knew he famously bitter,
I knew joyless labor,
Zhml quiet street,
Where to stand whistles.
The guy really wanted
Happiness see here,
For the workers' cause he went to war.

Next to her faithful,
He was quiet and timid,
She was his first love
I did not know how to explain.
And she did not have time
Even say a word -
For the workers' cause
He went to war.

And chopped his sword, he fell to the ground,
She gave blood to the last drop,
In parting, he said:
"I'm dying, but soon
Our sun will rise. "
The boy went at that time
eighteenth god.1956