By: Eugeni Buntov, musician, poet, paratrooper, veteran of the war in Afghanistan, and head of the “Soldiers of Russia“ Cultural Centre. Евгений Бунтов, музыкант, поэт, десантник, ветеран войны в Афганистане, руководитель Культурного центра “Солдаты России“. The bonfire gleams on our guns, The morning isn’t close, there’s time to smoke. Let sleepy mountains lie quiet in the dark. What difference does it make, sergeant, what day it is today? Why there’s exists a war no soldier comprehands, As our grandfathers in their time we’re also orederd to fire. And rocks are shattered with the shells, and every year as two. What difference does it make, sergeant, our ages at war? The tracers fly towards the clouds, like birds... Your friends enjoy themselves in pubs - And you ran up to the brick wall, and covered me with fire... What difference does it make, sergeant, what your friends are drinking! The sky above us glows red with night-fires.... She used to write to you each day — but has been silent too long. We eat our food with bayonet-knives and sing our songs of war What difference does it make, sergeant, who she is with? Tomorrow we advance into the mountains. If our luck is bad, We will be sent home early, in a coffin - And your mother will collapse, like injured, on her bed... It matters a lot, sergeant, where we’re buried!
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