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Kalinov Most - Kamchatka
You whisper to me: "We will meet again, I know it for sure,"
The ocean breeze washes my hair.
The distant blue awaits in its embrace.
Bitter Kamchatka, farewell.
The peaked caps are sacred, adorned with golden ribbons,
Service silvered the temples, the border is locked.
Awards are poured in rounds for the watchmen of the homeland,
The sun will rise on time – sleep peacefully, country.
Soaring like a white bird above Avacha,
The eyes drank in the patterns of autumn.
Touching with lips the tender, hot breasts,
Tasting the flavor of a maiden's smile...
The dawn bathes in the glow,
The young bride gazes at the sky.
Somewhere in the gray clouds are beloved hands.
Bitter Kamchatka, farewell.
The Milky Way sparkles in the heart like strings,
We will return with a song of gratitude.
Sprinkling lips with crystal streams.
Remember us more often, faithful friends!
Soaring like a white bird above Avacha,
The starlight dew melted the wing.
Whirlwinds swirled in a fiery dance.
The girl hid tears in the palm of her hand...
You whisper to me: "We will meet, I know it for sure."
The white moon sadly melts like a candle.
In a light haze, a feathery stroke flickers.
Bitter Kamchatka, farewell...
You whisper to me: "We will meet again, I know it for sure,"
The ocean breeze washes my hair.
The distant blue awaits in its embrace.
Bitter Kamchatka, farewell.
The peaked caps are sacred, adorned with golden ribbons,
Service silvered the temples, the border is locked.
Awards are poured in rounds for the watchmen of the homeland,
The sun will rise on time – sleep peacefully, country.
Soaring like a white bird above Avacha,
The eyes drank in the patterns of autumn.
Touching with lips the tender, hot breasts,
Tasting the flavor of a maiden's smile...
The dawn bathes in the glow,
The young bride gazes at the sky.
Somewhere in the gray clouds are beloved hands.
Bitter Kamchatka, farewell.
The Milky Way sparkles in the heart like strings,
We will return with a song of gratitude.
Sprinkling lips with crystal streams.
Remember us more often, faithful friends!
Soaring like a white bird above Avacha,
The starlight dew melted the wing.
Whirlwinds swirled in a fiery dance.
The girl hid tears in the palm of her hand...
You whisper to me: "We will meet, I know it for sure."
The white moon sadly melts like a candle.
In a light haze, a feathery stroke flickers.
Bitter Kamchatka, farewell...
Наше оружие - неожиданность! Неожиданность и страх, страх и неожиданность - это два наших оружия! Плюс безжалостность - три наших оружия: страх, неожиданность и безжалостность! И ещё фанатичная преданность Папе - четвёртое! Наше оружие включает в себя... наше оружие включает в себя... страх, неожиданность... я сейчас!