47 lines
1.1 KiB
Plaintext
47 lines
1.1 KiB
Plaintext
is he
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A little gray, like a silver poplar
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He stands, taking hits.
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How much cost him Sevastopol!
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How much cost to him of Stalingrad!
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And blind frosty night
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When the front sweeps blizzard
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His clear, bright eyes
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Until the end of spotted enemy.
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These black, hard years
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All hope was to it.
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Which breed sverhmoguchey
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Nature created it?
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Winning in military science,
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The enemy's blood staining the snow,
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He is in the hands of powerful people
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Brazen took enemy.
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And when approached vandals
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To our ancient capital of the fathers,
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Where he found these generals
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And these legendary fighters?
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He nurtured them. Above their upbringing
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Many thought it night and day.
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Oh, what a lightning tests
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Prepared they were!
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And in the battle for the Fatherland severe
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We walked fearlessly to die for him,
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For his fair word,
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For the great truth of it.
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How high he lifted up the power,
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The leader of the Soviet people-friends,
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And what kind of world fame
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He created for his Motherland!
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... The same opinion. The same simple question.
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Just stingy and wise words ...
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Over Russian military maps
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It turned gray golova.1945 |