60 lines
1.0 KiB
Plaintext
60 lines
1.0 KiB
Plaintext
Distant lodge
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It is part of the composition,
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Year after year rolls
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At forty-two
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junction forest
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an old man lives.
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He has long lived in the lodge,
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More recently, he became a saddle.
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The sons he raised up,
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grandchildren taught
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During these forty years.
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Chorus:
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Outermost track,
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Train Fly, fly!
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quiet lodge
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At the edge of the path.
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In the evening the old lineman
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It goes on rails knocks.
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At joints of steel
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He sees the two,
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One he runs to them.
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He puts his hammer,
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Wave heaving chest,
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Let the life he gives,
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But do not give
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The enemy to destroy the way!
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Chorus.
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But deeds are never
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Native country forgotten.
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Hey, the train, fly!
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To the People's Commissar of the way went our hero.
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His traveling on long-haul
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Meet like his father.
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It is high and straight,
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But woeful scar
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It runs along the face.
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Chorus.
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It is part of the composition of
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Jags running shadow.
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lineman again
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The cars meet
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It comes out every day.
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As the sun shines Order
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He is an old man with a hammer.
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You see him, you know him -
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Makhno his handkerchief!
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Pripev.1939 |