In the dugout

Fire’s flickering in the small stove
Tar is oozing from the log like a tear
The accordion’s playing to me
That you’re smiling to me, that you’re near.

Bushes have whispered to me about you
In the Moscow fields filled with snow
I am missing you, my dear love,
I would really like that you know.

You are now so far, you’re so far
Snow hills between us, they’re a-blocking
It’s so difficult now to reach you
Whereas death – is just a short walking.

Sing, harmonica, blizzards to spite
My lost happiness, please do recall
I’ll get warmer in this coldest trench
When I’m thinking of you above all.