Давай минуту помолчим... Пусть с неба нам расскажут...

Let's be quiet for a minute ...
Let the grandfathers tell us from heaven
How are they - then, after all, young! -
had to win the Victory.

As if not finished and finished,
they went on the attack both day and night;
how have you not really lived,
were torn to shreds

shells ... and bullet ...
Not loving and not finishing,
the roads were front-line
towards death. Not having time

say the last "sorry"
live to those we loved.
And the funeral ... on the cross
in the steppe many have only a name ...

Let whoever says what he wants
now about that distant war,
that's just the same everything hurts
from the lies of today's stream.

We are the generation of those children
to whom the veterans themselves,
still having time, about that War
the whole truth was told with pain.

I remember from childhood: grandfather Ivan
with medals on the shirt ...
Grandmother's brother. He disappeared during the War ...
In the yellow photo - shading

years gone by.
And still extinguishes wounds
lost grandfather from heaven ...
And on the ground - mounds crawl ...

I was seven years old. Yard. Lilac.
And May is raging with pipes.
With "Katyusha" we went out into the shade,
and the dove - "Ogonyok" cooing ...

Tell me people are like now
the tongue can turn
say that a brother is not a brother, but a beast ...
And that word does not choke.

Forget June? And forget May?
We need to remind us with a bell:
so that we have to LIVE on Earth,
A multivolume book has been paid for the war.

Original Russian Text © V.K.V.