IN THE FRONT- LINE FOREST

Music by M. Blanter
Lyrics by M. Isakovsky

Equirhythmic translation by Em Rostverg

A weightless yellow leaf is falling

Off a birch tree.

An accordionist is lightly playing

The old-time waltz Autumn Dream.
The basses sigh, as if complaining,

And, as if in a trance,
The soldiers are so quietly listening -

The dear friends of mine.

To the strains of this waltz we were dancing

One fine spring day;

To the strains of this waltz, back home,

We used to love girlfriends;

We used to catch the light of their…

Their dear eyes;

And we were sad far from our girls

To the same strains of this waltz.

And now it sounds again right here

In the front-line forest,

And everyone keeps silent about

What is very worshipped;

And everyone is thinking of the one,

Renewing their spring,

And knows the way to the only girl

Runs only through the war.

Let light and joy of former dates

Help us through hard times.

And if we have to perish one day,

Well, this is only once...

But let even death in fire and smoke

Not scare us at all,

And what we should -

Let us do it for our big triumph.

So, well, my friends, since it's our turn,

Let steel be hard and strong!

Let our hearts not miss a beat

And hands stay very firm!

It's our turn, it's our time!

Come on, let’s go ahead!

To fight for all we have lived up to