Песня "Я убит подо Ржевом" слова А.Твардовского.Исполняет группа "Сатисфакция" Мемориал Ржев

В честь Великой Победы! ютуб канал группы Сатисфакция https://www.youtube.com/user/Satisevas Alexander Tvardovsky I was killed near Rzhev, In the nameless swamp, In the fifth company, on the left, In a brutal raid. I didn't hear the breakup, I didn't see that flash,— Exactly into the abyss from the cliff — And no bottom or tire. And in all this world, Until the end of his days, No buttonholes, no stripes From my tunic. I — where the roots are blind Looking for food in the dark; I — where with a cloud of dust There is a rye on the hill; I — where is the rooster's cry At dawn on the dew; I — where are your cars The air is being torn up on the highway; Where is the blade of grass to the blade of grass The river of grass spinning, — Where to for the wake Even my mother won't come. Count, live, How long ago I was at the front for the first time Suddenly named Stalingrad. The front was burning, not Danny smiled, puzzled, Like a scar on the body. I'm dead and I don't know, Whether our Rzhev at last? Whether our There, on the Middle Don? .. this month was terrible, Everything was at stake. Really until the fall Don was already behind him And at least with wheels Did he break out to the Volga? No, that's not true. Tasks That wasn't won by the enemy! No, no! Otherwise Even dead-how? And the dead, the voiceless, There is one joy: We fell for the motherland, But she was saved. Our eyes dimmed, The flame of the heart was extinguished, On the ground on verification It's not us they're calling out. We need our own fighting skills Do not wear orders. You — all this, the living. We have only one joy: That we did not fight for nothing We are for the motherland. Let our voice not be heard, — You should know him. You should have, brothers, Stand like a wall, For the dead are cursed — This punishment is terrible. This is a formidable right It is given to us forever — And it is for us — This is a bitter right. In the summer of forty-two, I'm buried without a grave. Everything that happened after that, Death has deprived me. All that, maybe, for a long time You are familiar and clear, But let it be According to our faith. Brothers, maybe you And Don't lose it, And in the rear of Moscow People died for her. And in the Trans-Volga region Hastily dug trenches, And with fights reached To the limit of Europe. It's enough for us to know, That there was, no doubt, That last span On the military road. That last span, What if I leave it, Then stepped back There's nowhere to put your foot. That depth trait, After which it got up From behind your back The flame of the forges of the Urals. And the enemy was turned You're going west, back. Maybe the twin cities, And Smolensk has already been taken? And you smash the enemy At a different turn, Maybe you're heading for the border They've already arrived! Maybe ... yes it will be fulfilled The word of the holy oath! — After all, Berlin, if you remember, It was named near Moscow. Brothers, now recovered Fortress of the enemy's land, If only the dead, the fallen At least they could cry! If the volleys were victorious We, the dumb and the deaf, We who are eternally betrayed, Were resurrected for a moment, — Oh, faithful comrades, Only then b on the warrior Your happiness is immense You have fully comprehended. In him, that happiness, the undisputed Our blood part, Our faith, torn by death, hatred, passion. Our everything! You didn't make a mistake We're in a tough fight, Having given everything, they did not leave it Nothing on you. Everything is listed on you Forever, not for a long time. And not a reproach to the living This voice is our only conceivable one. Brothers, in this war We did not know the difference: Those who are alive, those who have fallen, — We were on a par. And no one in front of us Of the living not in debt, Who is the banner from our hands I picked it up on the run, To the holy cause, For Soviet power The same can be Step further to fall. I was killed near Rzhev, The one near Moscow. Somewhere, warriors, where are you, Who was left alive? In cities of millions, In the villages, at home in the family? In combat garrisons Not on our land? Ah, my own. alien, Covered in flowers or snow… I bequeath you my life, — What can I do more? Bequeath in that life You should be happy And the native homeland Continue to serve with honor. Grieve-proudly, Without bowing your head, To exult is not boastful In the hour of victory itself. And keep it sacred, Brothers, your happiness — In memory of the warrior brother who died for her.