This verse I want to dedicate to all who gave their lives for us, the future generation.
Guns are silent, everyone is tired,
They half the night rumbled, it's time to rest...
And tomorrow again, as the sun will rise,
With morning again, as a bolt from descends, and until the dawn...
The whistle of bullets, the shells, the cries of children,
Devastation, the tears of mothers.
And there is no end to the cursed war,
What absorbs the spirit of the soldiers...
And insatiable anger human,
No greed of end and end.
So it was, is and will be again,
Until love wins...
Замолкли пушки, все устали,
Они пол ночи грохотали, пора бы отдохнуть...
А завтра вновь, как солнце встанет,
С утра опять, как гром нагрянет, и до зари...
Свист пуль, снарядов, плач детей,
Разруха, слёзы матерей.
И нет конца, войне проклятой,
Что поглощает дух солдатов...
И ненасытна злость людская,
Нет жадности конца и края.
Так было, есть и будет вновь,
Пока не победит любовь...
In the photo my great-grandfather, Mikhail Leonov. Pilot, missing in 1942.
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