Polar Region


Polar Region mists povit.
Granite high northern land.
There ocean raging Arctic,
There go the ships fighting.

Behind blue waves rustled,
Surf tight in the steep rock beat.
It was a seaman with a rifle in his overcoat,
And good-bye to a friend saying:

In the open sea, the icy granite
I'm going to see violent dreams,
How did you smash the enemy no rest.
Severomorsk - the sons of the party.

He fought tirelessly
And not closed her death eagle eyes.
He passed through the hills glory of young
And up came the Kremlin towers.

Polar Region mists povit.
Granite high northern land.
There ocean raging Arctic,
There go the ships fighting.