102 lines
1.7 KiB
Plaintext
102 lines
1.7 KiB
Plaintext
Night patrol
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Darkens to night
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Sky blue,
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Twinkling stars,
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The satellites of the earth.
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And it seems,
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Asleep the whole of Moscow,
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And only go at night
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Guards.
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Them at this late hour
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Passes dream
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Not every guard
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Years young,
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But he but
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Chivalrous love
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In his Moscow
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The unique city!
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There are good,
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Good tradition
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That in the songs people
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Feelings do not conceal,
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And if singing
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"My militia"
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That means,
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Without a doubt - my!
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There are good,
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Good tradition
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That in the songs people
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Feelings do not conceal,
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And if singing
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"My militia"
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That means,
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Without a doubt - my!
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Alone with beauty
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Moscow
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from the center
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And the city suburbs,
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he carefully
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It keeps it calm,
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The same as we do,
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Moscow boss.
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Of course, it is difficult,
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What can I say,
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Not all are suitable
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For such work -
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therefore
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The police serve
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They come from the heart,
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And not by calculation.
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There are good,
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Good tradition
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That in the songs people
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Feelings do not conceal,
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And if singing
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"My militia"
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That means,
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Without a doubt - my!
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There are good,
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Good tradition
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That in the songs people
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Feelings do not conceal,
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And if singing
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"My militia"
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That means,
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Without a doubt - my!
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All over Moscow
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Chimes ringing,
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Washed cold rain
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Bridge.
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And see the Muscovites
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The tenth dream
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Do not sleep in the capital
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Only guards.
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their escorts
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Streets quiet,
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And the stars they
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Wink in unison.
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And the city is asleep,
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And only one
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Moscow police
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At the service.
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There are good,
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Good tradition
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That in the songs people
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Feelings do not conceal,
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And if singing
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"My militia"
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That means,
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Without a doubt - my!
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There are good,
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Good tradition
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That in the songs people
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Feelings do not conceal,
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And if singing
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"My militia"
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That means,
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Without a doubt - my!
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1960 |