1. Fire burning in small stove ring,
There is tar on the wood like a tear,
An accordion in dug-out sings
Of your smile and your eyes, oh my dear.
Bushed whispered of you round here,
Near Moscow in snow-white fields,
I’d like you be able to hear
How dreary voice of mine sings.
2. You are now away too far,
Between us there’s much snow perhaps,
Well, to reach you it is so hard
And to death there are only four steps.
Sing accordion in spite of storm
Calling happiness lost in the rove,
In the cold dug-out I am quite warm
Thanks to my undiminished love.
In the dug-out
© Copyright: Ольга Крубер-Федорова, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115041607802
Свидетельство о публикации №115041607802
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