… Do you think this will tell
In what years you lived!
What immeasurable severity
On the women’s shoulders lay! ..
In the morning leave of thee
Your husband, or brother, or son,
And you with his fate
There was one on one.
One on one with tears
With uncompressed in the bread box
You met this war.
And yet – without end and without the account –
Sadness, work and care
They send one to you.
One you – willy-nilly –
And it is necessary to keep up everywhere;
One you are at home and in the field,
One you cry and sing.
And all the clouds hanging below
A thunder rumbling closer,
Increasingly bad news.
And before you all the strange,
And before you all the war
I say – what you are.
You walked, holding his grief,
By harsh labor.
The whole front, that from sea to sea,
Helms you your bread.
In the cold of winter, in a snowstorm,
At that moment a distant features
Soldier warmed overcoat,
What you sewed carefully.
Throw in the din, in the smoke
Soviet soldiers in the battle,
And collapsed accursed stronghold
From bombs stuffed with you.
For all you took without fear.
And, as in the saying which,
Were you and the spinner and tkahoy,
Cleverly – needle and saw.
Ax, drove, dug –
Do you think all perechtesh?
And in the front letters assured,
What if you live very well used.
Soldiers have read your letters,
And there, on the front edge,
They were well aware
Holy thy iniquity.
And a warrior going into battle
And ready to meet her,
How oath whisper, like a prayer,
Far be thy name
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