Song of the war correspondent - WW2 photos
From Moscow to Bpesta no place
Wherever we wandered in the dust,
With Leica and notebook, or even with a machine gun,
Through the fire and the cold we pposhlogo.
Without sip tovapisch, not zavapish song,
So come for a small offering,
Here's to write, drink to be removed,
Here's to marching under fire.
To drink, we have an excuse for a military cord has,
For U-two at Emku for success
As the foot step as shoulder pushed,
How do we keep up with all panshe.
From the cold winds owing to sing and we became worse
But we say to those who uppeknet,
With our pokochuyte with our ponochuyte,
With our povoyuyte even if the year.
Where we visited, we were not given the tanks,
But we do not ever tepyalis,
On pickup dpanom and one revolver
One family drove into towns.
Here's to victory, for his newspaper,
And not live my dopogoy,
Does anyone hear someone write,
Does anyone remember his us with you.
From Moscow to Bpesta no place
Wherever we wandered in the dust,
With Leica and notebook, or even with a machine gun,
Through the fire and the cold we pposhlogo.
Here's to victory, for his newspaper,
And not live my dopogoy,
Does anyone hear someone write,
Does anyone remember his us with you.
5 окт 2024