Letter to Moscow


Sit down a minute there, something I can not sleep.
A letter I wrote to a friend today,
Letter to Moscow, the distant capital,
which I had never seen before.

Let it be the night, let the weather gets angry
Let the dream comes into its own -
But I do not sleep on patrol at the border,
To sleep peacefully slept my Moscow.

In the coming battles and night halts,
In the steppe wide il in the taiga,
That dream was gone, so I went off fatigue,
Comrade, remember his native Moscow! 1939